Change
by Immortal Magic Freak
Summary: AU, Prompt inside - Stiles Stilinski is the new kid with a story. It's his first day at Beacon Hills University and already he's the talk of the town, the talk of the school. He's never had the best life, he's never lived a normal life. He never thought he'd ever get away from the Hell he lived in. And then he met the Hale Pack. Could this be the start of something amazing? Or not?
1. Prologue

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**Prompt:** _I really want stiles to come to the school right. And have him have a really sad story. Dad beat him when he found out his son is gay, old boyfriend beat him too. He has been to jail and is the talk of the town. But I want him to be something different. Like a werewolf and a fox. And him be extremely rare. He ends up attracting the attention of the pack and ends up helping them. And in the end helps them defeat the newest big bad. Ends up being a Sterek. I like a nice peter. And a distrusting stiles. Oh and he is homeless living in his car. When Derek figures out he thinks best way to keep him under his eye. BAMF Stiles! All the residents' don't really like him and whisper about him. And he can hear it. Sassy Peter, I love sassy Peter. Oh and Alpha Derek. Beta Scott. I'm none to fond of Alpha Scott. :) Oh and rebuilt hale house._

**Please, please review XD**

**Prologue**

**Stiles**

My life was great. I had amazing friends, an unbelievably fantastic boyfriend. I had a home, a family. Everything was actually going right for me. My grades were better than ever before, I had a chance to go to a good university. For once in my life, I was happy. For once in my life I didn't have to worry about the staring and the whispers and the beatings. I could just be me, I could just be Stiles.

But it wasn't always like that.

It never is for some people, but no one ever really seems to know. They pretend to think that it doesn't happen, just so they don't feel guilty when they find out it's happening to someone they know. But a lot of people really don't know it's happening, because people never speak out.

I was one of them.

I didn't want to make things worse by talking to someone. I couldn't trust anyone. I didn't know if they were going to turn on me too, and do the same as...the same as _them_. Not that I had to worry about _them _anymore. But I used to, every night. Even when things started to go right, I would panic. I just wouldn't and couldn't trust anyone, not after everything that had happened.

But with time, and with the right people, things started to look up. They helped me, they accepted me... For the first time, ever since my mom died, I felt loved and wanted.

You know, maybe I should start at the beginning. That's usually a good place to start, especially for this story.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


	2. Talk of the Town, Talk of the School

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 1**

**Stiles**

Beacon Hills, California. I had taken the twenty seven hour drive from Dallas, Texas, across New Mexico, across Arizona, just to get to California. Yeah, I would like to see the asshole I call a father and that jackass Zane find me out here!

I should explain. Zane is my ex, well, he didn't know he was ex, I didn't really tell him. Though I wish I never met that douche. He would find any excuse to leave bruises and scars, just like my dad. Of course, dad did it for a completely different reason. Yeah, the asshole didn't like the fact that I was – in his words, not mine – a '_fucking fag_'. Be pretty hypocritical if the guy I _used _to be going out with was beating me up for the same reason. No, Zane thought I needed to be taught my 'place' in our 'relationship' that I needed to learn that he was in charge and I did whatever he said.

That was why I left. After being beaten within an inch of your life by two guys who are older than you – one by two years, the other by twenty – it's kind of obvious that you leave. It wasn't like I could call the police; my dad was the fucking Sheriff!

So leaving was my only option.

I had money. I had a job from the age of thirteen, odd jobs all around town really. I did anything to get away from my dad when he was home. It wasn't like he noticed anyway; he was always drunk out of his mind...

I never spent any of the money, so I had enough for food and gas. But it wasn't enough to get me anywhere decent to sleep, which is how I found myself sleeping in my car, on the edge of this woods, hidden by the trees.

I had gotten myself into the university – student loan. I would pay it off once I got a steady job – after leaving of course. Besides, it wasn't like I was an idiot. I mean, sure, I did some stupid things that I wasn't proud of, but I was smart. Not that I let anyone but my teachers in on it.

* * *

I drove around town, in my Jeep, to get to the university, and already I could hear the whispers. People knew about me, people were talking about me. How they knew who I was, I did not know. None of them seemed to like me, which was fine by me, I already hated each and every one of them, they could go fuck themselves.

Oh right, you don't know, I'm a cross between a werewolf and a were-fox. I call myself a were-folf. That's how I could hear them. My mother was the only other one that I knew, and then she died when I was ten. That's when dad had turned to drinking. He was just depressed then. But, at fourteen, when I told him I was gay, he turned violent.

The university was ten minutes away from where I had slept the night before, so it wasn't like I had to wake up super early on a morning. I jumped out of my car, after parking it, taking off my sunglasses and shoving them into my backpack, swinging it over the shoulder that hurt _less _than the other – my right one, basically. I slowly made my way up to the building, not missing the stares I was getting from the other students. For a moment I thought they could see them. All the scars and my tattoos... No, they couldn't, they were hidden. I made sure of it.

There was one group – three girls and five guys – standing by the doors, who just stared as I walked past. They didn't try to hide it like everyone else. They seemed to be the only one that hadn't been talking about me, and I could smell the curiousness – yeah, apparently that had a smell? – leaking off of all of them. _Werewolves_. Well, not all of them anyway. Only one was a human – a brunette girl – but the other seven were. Right now, I was glad that I went to a friend of my mom's, asking for something to mask my scent. That way, they wouldn't be able to tell what I was.

* * *

"_I heard he killed a guy with his bare hands."_

"_I heard he was in a porno, just so he could get money."_

"_I heard he deals drugs."_

"_God, with the way he looks, you'd think he was homeless."_

"_Why did they even let him in here?"_

"_Do you think he can even talk?"_

"_I heard he burnt his old school down."_

"_I heard the teachers talking... He tried to kill his own dad! They don't know why though. How sick it that?!"_

That was only a handful of things I heard on my first day in the school. Hell, they were the first things I heard in my first _class_. None of them were true, they were just stupid rumours that some pathetic idiots spread around due to lack of a life. Ok, so maybe the drugs bit was a little true... I got done for possession...it didn't help that I tried to kill my dad as well... Hey, if you were me, you would want the asshole dead too! Besides, he tried to kill me; it's only fair that I repay that favour! Anyway, the drugs weren't even mine! It was around that time that I met Zane...

I sighed; shaking my head, trying to get back to concentrating on the lesson without it looking likes I was concentrating. Confusing, I know, but I hated people knowing that I knew a lot. I hated people knowing things about me. I didn't like trusting people anymore, I _couldn't_. That was why I was sat right at the back of my English class, in the corner – I could see everyone, and no one could come at me from behind. I was sat directly behind the brunette girl I had seen earlier with all the wolves. _Allison_, was her name, apparently. She was sitting next to one of the other girls from their group – werewolf, red head. _Lydia_. She was kind of like your typical cool girl. Both were talking about the work given to us, but I could see the slight glances they were giving me, just like everyone else. I desperately wanted to just turn around and ask them what the hell their problem was, but I had promised myself that I would try to get through the rest of my educational life without attracting anymore attention to myself.

So I left it. I took a deep breath, trying to keep as calm as I could, clenching my fist as hard as I could. I could feel my nails breaking through the skin of my palm with the force, but it was either focus of the slight sting or the bastards around the room staring at me. _Fuck_, even my _teacher _was looking at me like something on the side of the road! Oh, wait, I FUCKING WAS!

* * *

I think I lived for the moments when the bell rang, just so I could escape the stares. My free periods and lunch break was spent in my Jeep or under the bleachers, out of sight and out of ear shot. The silence was calming, it let me get control over my raging wolf and cowering-pissed off fox.

It was difficult being both, and difficult hiding on the full moon. My emotions and instincts were set right on edge; it was difficult to keep from showing what I really was. I managed to do it somehow back in Dallas, no one ever found out. Mom had kept it from dad, so I kept it hidden too. Thinking about it, he'd probably use it as more incentive to beat the shit out of me. And if Zane knew...well, he'd probably have entered me in some illegal fighting contest or another.

Yeah, I wouldn't put it past either of them.

It was as I was sitting underneath the bleachers that the group from earlier – seven werewolves, one human – walked past, not noticing me at all.

"_I don't even know why he's here. If he's not going to pay attention, he may as well leave; he's so full of himself!"_

"_I thought he was going to hit someone... He was actually bleeding!"_

"_Hey, it's fine. This Stilinski guy won't do anything to you."_

"_Do you think we should let Derek know about him, just in case I mean?"_

"_No, Isaac, it should be fine. For all we know, he's just one of those loners that will ignore everyone."_

"_God, I hope so! I'd rather not have to deal with him any time soon."_

"_I second that. I have a strange feeling about that guy."_

"_Let's just see what happens. Maybe he'll just leave."_

It was official. Everyone in the town and school were talking about me. Everyone hated me. Brilliant, meant I didn't have to be all that careful around people.

* * *

P

People went out of their way to avoid me. If I was walking down the hall, they would part like the red sea. It would have been fine if they didn't stare at me as I walked by though.

But soon the bell rang for the end of the day; _finally_ I could go back to my Jeep. Deaton – my mom's old friend that gave me the stuff to mask my scent – had told me I could go stay with him while I was here in town, so I had somewhere to stay. Obviously I said no, otherwise I wouldn't be sleeping in my _car_ in the _woods_. I barely knew the guy; I was only taking the potion thing from him because I _knew _what it was. That didn't mean I trusted him.

So, yeah, I jumped down the steps of the university, heading towards my car, when for what felt like the hundredth time that day, I spotted the wolves. They were all standing by three cars. Two – one was Allison, the other a brunette guy – were standing by one car; Lydia was standing by the other with a guy who looked like her boyfriend, and one who looked like a Hawaiian; and the last three were standing by a black Camaro with a guy I hadn't seen around. Black hair, kind of spiked at the front, leather jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots, muscles. All in all, he was hot. And he was staring at me too.

I sighed, continuing to make my way to my Jeep, ignoring the people moving away from me, talking about me and staring at me. And then I heard hot guy talk.

"_What's up with that?"_

I didn't stick around to hear what the rest of the group would say. I didn't want to hear my life story – or what people thought was my life story – retold to him. So, I just jumped in my Jeep and drove away.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	3. Something About

**Authors Note: ****HEYO everyone! XD So, please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 2**

**Stiles**

The next couple of days at school were pretty much the same as the first. People avoiding me, talking about me, staring at me. It was as if they thought I couldn't see or hear them. To be honest, I wish that was true. If I could escape the stares and comments any where I went, if I could escape everything on this Earth that wanted to break me, then I would be just remotely happy!

But it was better than Dallas.

Hell, if I was back in Dallas, I wouldn't even be _breathing_! No, I would have been stone cold dead, on the ground, whether it be by the hands of my father or Zane! Either way, they'd probably help each other cover it up. They'd probably swap notes on how to best hold me down and stab me, making it look like I had been jumped or something.

Man, if people actually knew what my life was like, they'd think twice before saying some of the things they did.

Sighing, I leant back in my chair, in my Chemistry class – hey, I was good at it, ok! Four of the wolves were in my class, I had noticed – tall and blonde (apparently called Isaac, or something like that), Richie McRich (Jackson), the Hawaiian guy (Danny) and the brunette guy (Scott). I had picked up some of their names as I had gone around the school, all of them being in _at least_ _one _of my classes. The last two in the group – Erica and, who I assumed was her boyfriend, Boyd – were in my music class – yeah, I took music, shut up... The four guys sat near me, just like Allison and Lydia did in English, just like Erica and Boyd did in music. I would see the eight of them around school all the time too, almost like they were all following me.

But they weren't. I was just being paranoid. Wasn't I?

Of course I was! They weren't following me. _No one _was following me! Not now. Not ever.

* * *

Today – September 6th, thankfully a Friday – I had a shorter day. Friday's usually consisted of two hours of English, a half an hour break, two hours of music and then back to my Jeep to start on any assignments I got that day. That was pretty much what I did.

But not today. Today was _way _different.

I had just finished music, and I was heading towards the parking lot. I was tired, all I wanted to do was sleep, and I couldn't get the voices of the people in this Godforsaken school out of my head! I just wanted some peace and quiet!

But that wasn't going to come.

Most people, like me, had shorter Friday's. One of those people just happened to be tall, blonde wolf pup. Usually, I would see him waiting outside as I headed to my Jeep, but today he seemed a little...held up.

I didn't know what was happening, I wouldn't have done anything... But unfortunately, I had been in his place one too many times before. It wasn't like I could just walk on by; I couldn't do that to anyone. Even anyone here, even though they all wanted to believe I was some evil son of a bitch.

Tall and blonde was surrounded, backed up against the lockers, but four people all taller and muscleier than him. I could already see the faint purple-blue of a forming bruise around his eye, while he clutched his stomach at the same time as trying to get out of the hold they had on him. Why he couldn't was beyond me. He was a werewolf, they were human! But I couldn't just leave him.

I dropped my backpack where I was standing in the – apart from the six of us – empty hallway, before walking towards them.

"_Come on, ya little fag." _the one holding him taunted. _"Not even gunna fight back?"_

"_No, too much of a fucking pussy, aren't ya?" _another cackled.

"_Not so tough without ya boyfriend." _the next jeered.

"_No one to run to now, Princess." _the last spat.

I swear, you couldn't escape the homophobic bastards wherever you went!

"Oi!" I called out, drawing the attention of all five of them. "We got a problem here?"

Now, three of the four backed up pretty quickly. I already knew most people were scared of me, hence the parting of students when I walked by... But this was just fucking ridiculous! I mean, _come on_!

But last one, the one holding tall and blonde against the lockers... He just looked pissed. You know how in every school, you get that one kid who tries to be hard, tries to scare _everyone_, tries to mess with everyone? Yeah, this guy was that kid. It's unbelievable how many of them were in jail... It was really quite funny when they tried to gang up on me.

"Piss off, ya freak." he spat. "This ain't go nothin' to do with ya."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" I grinned, chuckling slightly. "But you see, I don't take well to pathetic people, such as yourself, who see the need to victimise others in such a way. Of course, if you feel the need to, then please, feel free to use me as a punching bag."

He actually stopped then. He stopped, dropped tall and blonde, before squaring up to me, glaring. For a moment, I thought he was going to turn away, tail tucked between his legs. Nope. He pulled back his arm, fist clenched, propelling it forward with all he had, pushing his weight behind it.

I stopped it with one hand.

"Did I forget to mention that this punching bag fights back?" I asked, innocently.

I shoved his hand back, hard enough to make him stumble a few steps backwards. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face, taking in the look of shock and anger on each of the four faces in front of me. The three that had backed off earlier were slowly edging further and further away, eyes wide, looking pale and sick. Macho dude, well, he was red and furious! Oh well!

"Now, are you going to turn around and walk away, or will I be introducing that locker door to your head?" I questioned, stepping towards the door in question.

"Do your worst." he growled.

In all fairness, he did technically ask for it...

So, it wasn't _really _my fault that I grabbed onto the lock of the door I was standing by, yanking the whole thing off of its hinges. I chucked it up in the air, until I griped the sides near one of the smaller ends of the metal in both hands, holding it to the side like I was preparing to hit a baseball or something.

I got no further than that, watching as the four of them disappeared around the corner. Shaking my head, I placed the door back into the hole, leaning it at just the right angle to stay in place... No one would know it was me. I turned around, coming face to face with tall and blonde, who was staring at me curiously, just like on my first day in the school when I first saw him and his mates outside the door.

I nodded slightly, picking up my backpack once I reached it again, wincing slightly as it hit a tender part of my back.

"Y-You helped me." he stammered.

"Yes. Yes I did." I nodded, turning to face him again.

"Thanks. No one... No one ever really helps me."

"Not even your _Pack _of friends."

Oh, come on! Just because I couldn't come out right and say '_I know you're a werewolf_', doesn't mean I can't make stupid little comments like that!

"Only if they're around. You wouldn't believe how long I've had to deal with those guys. Thanks again."

"Look, no problem. I know what it's like."

"You've been bullied too?"

"Still am."

At that, he got quiet, looking guilty, empathetic and sad all in one.

I started to walk again, heading towards the doors, but the guy took a couple of steps and he was next to me again, throwing his back onto his shoulder. To be honest, I thought he was going to get as far away from me as possible, wanting to avoid the '_freak_'. But the kid, true to his wolf, just followed like a puppy. I glanced over to him every now and then, trying to figure out what he was doing, why he was walking with me and not away from me. It was just slightly unnerving.

"I'm Isaac, by the way. Isaac Lahey." he said, as we walked outside.

"Stiles Stilinski." I replied. "But you probably knew that already."

"Yeah... Look, really, thank you. For back there. I really do appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

I chucked my bag into the back of my Jeep, just about to climb in the driver's side and leave...when there was thunder. _Great._ _Just great_. Sighing, I looked up at the grey sky – _when did that happen? _– before looking back to Isaac.

"Look, in two minutes, it's going to be chucking it down." I told him. "Want a lift back to...wherever you live? Beats having to wait out here in a storm."

"Really?" Isaac spluttered. "You don't have to. I mean, I don't know..."

"Do you want to get wet?"

That was pretty much all it took to get him in the car.

* * *

After giving me the directions to his house, I was driving down the road, Isaac beside me. The kid just chatted away, while I sat there, concentrating on the street names.

"Hey, why are there so many boxes in here?" he asked, as we turned a corner.

Oh fuck. The kid was a fucking werewolf, how could I lie?! I groaned internally, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't have anywhere to put them yet." I told him – kind of the truth.

"Not enough space?" he asked, as innocent as a five year old at Christmas.

"Yeah, something like that."

Hey, just because he decided to come up with that, didn't mean I could make him think I was agreeing when I really wasn't. See, told you I was smart.

The rest of the drive was really just Isaac talking, mainly about the university and those idiots from earlier and how he had to put up with them through high school too. Man, if I was friends with this kid, I wouldn't leave him alone, knowing those asshats could get to him so easily! Did these people know nothing about Pack?!

* * *

I looked around, as I pulled up, mainly focusing on the house that was surrounded by the hundreds of acres of woods. The house itself was large. It looked three stories high, but I it was probably more than that – underground space. Looking it from the front, it would look like any normal house, not too special and not to large... From the side? Well, it stretched quite far back, and don't even get me started on how far it must have went down for the basement! The walls were made up of wooden planks, each corner of the house made of bricks, the same as part of the middle of the walls on the side of the house on both sides. Each floor was separated by a concrete ledge, the largest part being on the first one over the door, being held up by four pillars on the porch. Windows were equally spaced around the house, letting in enough light to brighten up the interior. The roof...the roof was flat, the edge before the concrete ledge surrounded by a metal fence of sorts. A small bump could be seen on top, probably a door that you walked through to get onto the roof. It must be nice to go up onto that roof, to lie down and look up at the stars. The view must have been great too, standing by the fence and look out on everything.

All in all, I was impressed.

"You live here." I couldn't help but say.

"Yeah, my friends and I live here with our...other friend and his uncle." Isaac said. "They took me, Erica and Boyd in and soon everyone else followed. We're like one big family really."

I nodded, still just staring at the house. Come on, you would to if you were me!

"Better than a cave." I muttered, quietly. "So, uh, see ya, Isaac."

Isaac started to climb out, thanking me again.

He stopped as soon as his hand gripped the handle.

He turned back to me, smiling a little. Friendly.

"Why don't you come inside?" he asked. "You look like you could use some coffee."

Oh, how right the kid was! I had been in all three of the coffee shops around town, and you know what? Two of them refused to serve me. When I tried the last, I thought they would do the same...instead they just made it as quickly as possible.

But I didn't know him.

I couldn't trust him.

But I couldn't find any ulterior motives behind this, just a genuine offer of coffee.

"I'll sit here until you come inside with me." Isaac threatened.

* * *

Shut up, the house was warm and the coffee was good. Besides, the kid meant it, he wouldn't move until I actually went inside the house with him. He continued to talk as he made and we drank the hot liquid, both of us leaning against the counter in the kitchen... I shuffled from foot to foot, glancing at the door. Even though this was the warmest I had been in a while, I didn't really want people to suddenly appear and see me...

But then Isaac said something. I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was, so I took my eyes off of the door and turning my attention to him. As soon as I did that though? Someone walked through the front door. And into the kitchen. I pretty much froze, turning almost mechanically towards the door, whilst Isaac just smiled at whoever it was.

It just so happened to be hot guy – black hair, kind of spiked at the front, leather jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots, muscles. He looked at me, frowning slightly, before turning to Isaac, raising an eyebrow.

"This is Stiles." Isaac said. "He helped get Chase and that lot away from me earlier."

"Hey, dude." I mumbled.

"That's Derek. He and his uncle Peter are the ones that took us all in. Now we all live in '_Hale House_'."

Ok, so, Isaac was actually pretty cool. Still didn't mean I trusted the guy. Just meant he was alright...I guess. He really was like a puppy.

"You got those Neanderthals to back off?" Derek asked, disbelief clear in his voice, the eyebrow still raised.

Just before he said that was when the rest of Isaac's buddies seemed to walk through the door, hearing what Derek Hale said – nice to put a name to the face.

"Yeah, I did." I replied "People like that hit a wrong nerve; I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

As I talked, the seven people that had walked through the door entered the kitchen, all watching me, listening.

"So, uh, I'm going to head out." I muttered. "Thanks for the coffee, Isaac, I'll see you around."

Before he could reply, I was out of that door like a bat out of hell, jumping in my Jeep and heading back towards the part of the woods I always stayed in.

* * *

**Derek**

I didn't know what it was, but there was something about that '_Stiles_' kid. But there was this spark to him, something I've never seen in a person before. And his scent, it was off, something wasn't quite right with it... But I couldn't tell what.

The kid was interesting, I would give you that.

He was... I don't know, there was just something about him that made me wonder...

"I want you all to keep a close eye on him." I told the Betas, once I heard the sound of his car down the road. "There's something about him that I can't put my finger on."

"Do you think he's a wolf?" Allison asked, leaning into Scott's side.

I shook my head, frown deepening.

"I don't know what he is." I told them. "If he is anything. That's why _you _are all keeping an eye on him. Find out where he lives if you have to!"

"Great, we get to babysit the freak..." Jackson mumbled.

"Give him a break. He did help me." Isaac sighed.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed some coffee myself before heading to my room. Listening to the all bicker for too long would just bring on a migraine.

But I was probably going to get one thinking too hard about that damn kid...

* * *

**_Please, please review XD_**

**_Thanks everyone XD_**


	4. Tattoos and Scars

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 3**

**Stiles**

Having no social life gave me all the time in the world to finish any and all assignments. It wasn't like they took me all that long anyway. I did spend most of my time at the local library, using the computers there to actually do the work. Come on, what did you expect? When you're living in your car after running away from 'home', only grabbing the few boxes of stuff you could, you don't tend to have a computer/laptop with you.

So, yeah. All the assignments I had been given during my first week of school were all over and done with, ready to be handed in on Monday... Even if we did have another two weeks to finish them.

Like I said, having no social life gave me all the time in the world!

You can imagine the surprise on my teachers' faces when I handed in the numerous sheets of paper with my work, before heading to my seat at the back of the class as always. The room was usually empty of all students when I got to class, everyone else taking their time, while I arrived early to everything. I wanted a better chance in life. What a better way to do it than this.

And then I noticed it. On the Friday just passed, when I had met Isaac, I had thought I was being followed by the wolves. But I just wrote that off as me being paranoid.

This time? This time I knew they were following me. During my free periods I would see them standing close by. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but then any time I moved somewhere else, they would follow me. It was pissing me off. It was irritating, to say the least; words could not describe my frustration. It would have been easy to turn around and tell them to fuck off, but that would get me nowhere. Only more staring and whispers.

So I did nothing. Gritting my teeth and digging my nails into my palms, hoping to any God I could think of that they would just leave me alone. All I wanted to do was learn.

* * *

It was during my second break of the day that I went outside to my Jeep. The temperature had dropped, so I thought it would a good idea to grab my red hoodie... I had Isaac and Danny following me this time, stopping at the door – I noticed – as I went to my car. I was starting to wonder what their problem was, why they had this sort of fascination with me. For a moment, I thought it would have had something to do with me helping Isaac out, you know... But then why would they do that?

I started walking across the parking lot, when I caught hold of this...well, it smelled like rotting flesh, to be honest. A body abandoned, left to decay into nothing. It was..._sickening_. It got stronger the closer I got to my Jeep, making it harder to ignore. I couldn't help but look around, trying to find the source...

Imagine my surprise when I found it was a _person_.

He looked to be, about, thirty seven. Slicked back brown hair, a slight beard and moustache...he looked a little like Derek Hale.

_That must be Derek's uncle, Peter._

That thought was only supported when I saw the group that was standing with him... And the fact that Isaac and Danny had started walking away from the door to the university and over to the group. Which, evidently, was closer to me...

I had just grabbed a hold of the red material of my hoodie when an idea came to mind. It would seem childish to a lot of people, but I couldn't help it. Once something like this came to mind, most of the time I couldn't stop it.

Which is why, on my way back past the group, I couldn't help but start humming the Walking Dead theme song.

Come on! Who could pass up that opportunity?!

* * *

I thought that maybe they'd start back off, you know, later in the day. Nope. The eight of them still followed me around, in little groups. I knew I couldn't get away with it when it came to my lessons, I knew that! But they could at least back off when walking around the school. It was a big place, they could go anywhere.

I think that's why, during lunch, I went to sit in the library. It was quiet, and there weren't a lot of people in there. The less people the better, I thought. For me, it made it easier to concentrate, not having to worry about anyone going in for the attack.

Besides, it had books – both fiction and educational – and computers. Over the weekend I had bought a memory stick, as well as a few writing and drawing pads... The writing pads made it easier to write down any ideas for school work, just so I wouldn't forget them. But the drawing pad? Well...I liked to doodle. That plus music – I was proud to say I was a music junkie – helped take my mind off of everything, helped me forget just for a moment...

It was a shame that I had to leave all of that stuff back in Dallas. A lot of it I could replace easily and luckily I had grabbed the things that were of value to me and only me... But it was going to be a long time before I could replace the music I had and my guitar.

But I was determined to. I was determined to get a good job after university, move into a nice flat, and replace anything I couldn't bring with me. I was determined to start fresh, have a better life. I _was _going to do that and _nothing_/_no one_ could stop me! Not now, not ever. I would do this.

* * *

I knew it was on purpose. There was no way it could have been an accident.

It turned out that Chase could hold a grudge. That was how I found myself with mud and soda soaking into my t-shirt. The blue material was already ruined; I needed to throw it out anyway. But I thought I would be able to get away with it just a little longer!

I had just been walking across the field, going back into the university after sitting under the bleachers, when I was tackled to the ground. I managed to get Chase off of me, throwing him a few feet to my left, before one of his buddies chucked their soda can at my back. I kept the inhuman growl as quiet as possible, as to not attract more attention to myself. I tried as hard as possible to hold back the wolf, straining against the restraints I had carefully built up over the years, trying to hide both him and the fox – and the folf... My jaw locked, and I could feel the prickling of fur starting to grow. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, digging the slowly forming claws into the tops of my thighs, desperately trying to hold back, as I walked away, stiffly.

I jogged out to my Jeep to grab another shirt, not wanting to prolong the uncomfortable feeling of the mud and soda seeping through the material and onto my skin, getting back inside and into one of the bathrooms just as quickly. My skin itched from the irritation from the damaged material, screaming at me to get it off of me and into the bin. I was more than happy to do so, balling it up and chucking it into the black cylinder with accuracy that only came with practise and with being a supernatural creature.

I placed the dark purple t-shirt on the small counter for a moment, wondering whether or not I should take a look. It had only been nine days since I had escaped to California – today being Monday, 9th September 2013 – so I knew the marks would still be there. Even though I had those freaky powers that some of us supernatural people had, didn't mean I healed as fast as others. Being a mix like me, while rare, did have its low points. Yes, we healed faster than the average human, but we were left with the scars. That was one of the things I had to live with, knowing that I would forever be covered in those raised white bumps.

Sighing, I came to the decision that I may as well look. There was no use in being uptight over it. So, stepping in front of the mirror, I glanced at my torso.

Knives and whips were a favourite with my father, always using both. First the whip would come out, crisscrossing over my back, getting deeper and deeper with each slash. Sometimes, when he was in a particularly bad mood, he would go over them until I was about ready to pass out from the white hot pain... But he wouldn't stop there. He would grab the knife he always seemed to have close by, digging the unforgiving metal into my back, chest and stomach. Sometimes, I would catch this look in his eyes... This psychotic pleasure from seeing me trying not to scream in agony, trying not to cry so he could have something else to taunt me with. They were the main things he used. There was that one time, when I was younger, when he used his belt – that's how he got the idea of the whip. He was drunk that night and I had talked back to him, timid as it was... First he had hit me, giving me a black eye and making me nose bleed... It was during that time that he got his belt off, kicking me until I was on my stomach. That's when I felt the first sting of leather against my back. I had only been fourteen at the time, just a week after I had admitted I was gay, so it wasn't my fault that I couldn't hold back a pain filled cry.

Two years later, when I was sixteen, was when I met Zane. At first, he was a really nice guy, sweet even. He was two years older than me, being eighteen, and I looked up to him. He was someone I could trust, now that I knew what my dad was really like. But, after a few months, he started to change. That's when he let his true colours show, starting to get violent and abusive. It started off small, just him hitting me if I did something he didn't like. At first he would apologise, say he didn't mean it, that he was just stressed and he snapped. But then he stopped apologising. It went from hitting, to punching. From punching, to pummelling, kicking, small blades. At first, I thought it was stress or something I had done, or that he was drunk. But then, one day, he started doing it more. He tried to force me to...do stuff. I said no, I got away from him, he left me alone for a bit. That was when the hitting and kicking and cutting got worse. He was doing that because I wasn't giving him what he wanted and because he was a fucking jackass.

I had tattoos covering each scar. Well, _trying _to cover each scar. Each symbol – rune – meant something: strength, ice, protection, water, air, sun, Earth, fire, power, defence warrior, journey. Those were to name a few. There were two though, that weren't runes. One was a Triskelion, on my back, right in the middle. I had liked the look of it since I was a child, and it was something my mom liked too. It was the first tattoo I got, it just seemed right. But, even though it wasn't a rune, it still meant something.

The active symbolism of it was: action, cycles, progress, revolution, competition and moving forward.

The meanings of the three extensions – spirals, basically – were: spirit, mind, body; Father, Son, Holy Ghost; mother, father, child; past, present, future; power, intellect, love; creator, destroyer, sustainer; creation, preservation, destruction.

The three worlds represented by it were: The Otherworld, where spirits, gods and goddesses live. The Mortal World, where you and I live along with plants and animals. The Celestial World, where unseen energies live and move about. Like the forces of sun, moon, wind and water.

The lunar symbols associated with it were: mystery, feminine, intuition, subtleness, subconscious, spirituality, illumination and hidden desire.

Overall really, the meanings of the Triskelion were: personal growth, human development and spiritual expansion.

The other tattoo, well, that was personal to me...

Sighing, I grabbed my dark purple t-shirt, slipping it over my head easily. It was a little big for me, like all my clothes, but it was something. It was only after I had my t-shirt on right that I noticed them.

Isaac was standing there with Danny, Scott, Jackson and Boyd...all of them staring. Running a hand through my hair, I turned, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the counter.

"Just say it and leave me alone." I told them. "I've had everything said about them, go on, just say it."

"What's 'Genim'?" Jackson asked, glaring slightly.

"A tattoo I have."

He went from glaring to rolling his eyes exasperatedly. Starting to walk away, until Boyd caught his arm and dragged him back. I couldn't help but smirk.

"What does it mean?" Danny asked, as calmly as he normally did when I heard him speak.

"Why do you guys care?" I shot back. "And while I'm asking, why are you following me? Got nothing better to do than stalk the new kid?"

None of them said anything, just waiting. They were blocking the door, so the only way I could get out was if I told them the truth, unless I wanted to reveal to them what I really was – which I really didn't! So, the truth it was.

"It's my name." I spat. "Genim Stilinski is my _real _name. Happy now?"

I left before they could say anything.

* * *

**Isaac**

The scars that were so poorly covered and the way Stiles acted... There was only one thing that I knew could make someone like that, because I used to be exactly the same before I killed my dad after becoming a werewolf. But it wasn't like I could come out and say it. It wasn't my secret to tell, it wasn't my place. I knew that I never wanted people finding out about my dad, and that must have been exactly what was happening with Stiles... But that didn't mean I wanted to watch someone suffer like I did, especially after that person had _helped _me. Even though they didn't know me. It was no wonder that he acted like he did with people, not really trusting anyone. It was strange thinking that at some point, I was exactly where he was a few years ago...

It was later on, at home, with the whole Pack when Scott was telling everyone else what we had seen. I stayed quiet, least I give something away, just shuffling closer into Danny's side, trying to tune everything out. Though that became difficult when Danny started hacking into databases online for any trace of 'Genim Stilinski', just to see if we could find out anything about him. I bit my lip, watching the screen.

"We got something." Danny announced, ten minutes later. "Dallas, Texas. Genim Alexander Stilinski. Born August twenty sixth nineteen ninety four, to Claudia and John Stilinski. Claudia died of stomach cancer just over nine years ago, five days after Stiles' tenth birthday... John is the Sheriff..."

That just made my stomach churn. To be honest, I didn't want to hear anymore, but if I left now, they would know I was hiding something. So, I just sat and listened.

"In and out of the hospital, treating: broken bones, deep cuts to his stomach, hair line fractures, concussions, burns." Danny continued. "In and out of jail, for: vandalism, assault, breaking and entering, theft, possession of drugs and... Whoa, ok, attempted murder."

"Of who?!" Allison shrieked.

"His dad, apparently. Dad got him out each time he went in, claiming that his son was mentally ill and was receiving help."

Everyone was silent for a moment, looking at no one. Derek was lost in thought; it was easy to tell, frowning slightly.

To be honest, having an idea of what Stiles had to put up with? I wasn't surprised he tried to get rid of his dad. For me, as bad as it may sound, it was one of the best things I did. I was no longer looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to appear and attack at any moment... I could actually live my life with my _real_ family.

It was a shame Stiles couldn't do the same thing.

"Well, that was cheery." Peter drawled, in the end. "So, I'm thinking pizza for dinner."

"Only you could think of food at a time like this, Zombie!" Scott called out.

"Would you rather I think of your mother?"

"Perverted asshole!"

I tuned everything out. From finding out this guy had had a troubled life; somehow we'd completely jumped over sympathy and gone straight to ignoring.

I just wished we could help.

* * *

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	5. A Homeless, Starving 'FAG AND PROUD'

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 4**

**Stiles**

Over the next couple of days, the wolves continued to follow me. After what happened on Monday, it was beyond irritating by now, but I just ignored it. It was the only thing I _could _do.

My dad would have probably have noticed his punching back had disappeared, so would Zane, so they would both be trying to find me. One wrong more in this town would be a quick fire way to them finding me, to them dragging me back to Dallas.

_Yeah, like I would even make it that far._

Sighing, I shook my head. There was no point in thinking about it. If I thought about it, I would panic. If I panicked... _No_. I just couldn't think about it.

So I ignored it all. I ignored everyone in the school, whenever I could. Well, I tried to anyway. I mean, I couldn't ignore it if Chase was being a douche and no one was around to help Isaac out. I couldn't ignore it if Isaac made it his mission, after I helped him, to follow me around like the little puppy he was and try to talk to me. He even followed me into the library, carrying on the conversation he had started in whispers. For the life of me, I had no idea why this guy was talking to me. Why he seemed to _willingly _talk to me and get to know me. I wanted to trust him, he seemed like an alright guy... But that was what I had thought of Zane before things took a turn for the worst.

Isaac was persistent though. Whenever I walked away, he would follow. Anytime I would go somewhere overcrowded, hoping that what people might think of him could get him away from me, he would just ignore everyone and carry on with what he was saying. He wasn't even nervous of scared when he was talking to me!

I had to admit, he impressed me...so far.

* * *

On Thursday 12th September, after school, I had driven back to the part of the woods I usually stayed in. It wasn't raining today, but that didn't mean it was any warmer. The only things I had to keep me warm were the clothes, my red hoodie and my own body heat – I didn't want to waste gas by turning my car on!

I lay there on the back seat, staring up at the roof of my Jeep. I sighed. It was times like these when I wish I had managed to snag the box that had my iPod in or my CDs or my guitar! I couldn't just sit there and write or draw for hours and hours, I had to do something else.

That's why I liked driving. I could listen to the radio. I loved listening to the songs they played – some of them, not all – getting lost in the lyrics and melodies, letting the music drown out everything else. I loved it when I heard a guitar solo, or a riff... I loved the change in pitch and dynamics... I loved it all. Contrary to what people think, I like a range of music. Country, Pop, Rock... There's few types I didn't like – for example, I wasn't fond of opera – but most of the time it depended on the artist and the song itself.

I liked Green Day, Hunter Hayes, Halestorm, Hedley, The Click 5, The Summer Set, Queen, AC/DC, Fall out Boy, Falling in Reverse, Get Scared, Simple Plan, Sam Tsui, Boyce Avenue, Ed Sheeran, American Authors. There were many more...but it wasn't like I was going to name them all! So, yeah, a range of music. But just knowing that didn't take the boredom away. Sometimes, on days like these, I wished I had taken Deaton up on his offer to go stay with him. But then I remembered what it was like the last time I had decided to trust a stranger right away... No, it was better this way. It was better this way until I could fend for myself – properly.

It was then I heard the sound of two engines somewhere behind me. I only had time to sit up before someone was knocking on the window behind my head. I turned around quickly; ready to grab the knife I had hidden somewhere, just so I had something to protect myself with. And then I saw Isaac.

Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, before opening the door to my Jeep and jumping out of it. I turned to face him after I shut the door again, seeing the rest of the group – save Derek and Peter – standing by the cars.

"What? Couldn't stop at following me around the university like a bunch of puppies?" I scoffed. "Why are you following me?!"

"Do you live in your car?" Erica asked, calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"Is that any of your business?"

"It is if I make it my business."

"Yeah, well, tough luck there, blondie."

She glared at me. Like, full on proper bitch glared. It was nearly as terrifying as the look my dad would give right before he would get the knife though...

I just started back at her, calmly, raising an eyebrow slightly, making her all the more frustrated. I couldn't help the small smirk that worked its way across my face.

"So, I'll ask again. Why are you following me?" I sighed, turning to Isaac.

"We don't need to answer that." Boyd replied, calm and monotone.

"Why not?"

"If you won't answer our questions, we won't answer yours."

_Touché. _

Shrugging, I turned on my heel, jumping back into my car, locking the doors this time before lying down again.

I never noticed that I fell asleep.

* * *

**Isaac**

Sighing, I got back into the car with Jackson, Lydia and Danny. I would admit that little meeting could have gone better...but it wasn't like I expected anything different. I was still wondering whether or not Stiles actually lived in his car. Maybe that was the reason for the boxes. He never really answered my question about them properly when he gave me that lift home.

"I can't find anything registered in his name. He hasn't got a bank account or a credit card either..." Danny said, staring at his laptop that was sitting on his lap.

"So, he's living in his car and paying with cash." Jackson sighed. "So what, big deal. Why's it our problem?"

No one answered that. No one knew how to answer that, other than '_Derek told us to, Derek's the Alpha_.' While a good argument, it didn't really answer the question. To be honest, it really wasn't our problem. It only became mine when Stiles helped me out. All I wanted to do was help him. Help him the way the Pack helped me.

"We should go to Deaton." Lydia said, checking her nails – _again_. "See if he knows anything."

"We'll need to talk to Derek first." Danny commented. "He still has trouble trusting him."

Biting my lip, I turned a little to stare out the window. I didn't like how we were handling this, not at all. It was intrusive and I, out of everyone, knew how much it sucked. I wanted to help, sure, but not like this. But really, was there any other way?

* * *

**Stiles**

I knew this day would come.

While using the showers at the university was great, it did nothing to help me get money. I had barely any left, I needed a shower...but it was a Saturday. The only place I knew that had a shower and, possibly, food...was Deaton's. Deaton had told me that any time I needed help, even if it was just for something like food, I could go to him. I really didn't want to go to him; I really didn't want it to look like I trusted him. But I had to do something.

That was how I found myself parked outside of his home that morning.

I had dragged my feet as I walked slowly up to the front door, trying to prolong the short distance. But it wasn't long enough, since soon I found myself standing outside of his door. The door opened before I even thought about knocking, coming face to face with the veterinarian.

"I heard you pull up." Deaton explained. "If I waited any longer, it would have been evening."

I didn't say anything as he let me in. Already knowing what I was here for, since I had turned down a place to say, Deaton directed me to his upstairs bathroom. He didn't come upstairs with me to show me where it was, he stayed downstairs after telling me which door it was. I was grateful for that, to be honest. I think I would have made a run for it if he had come upstairs too.

* * *

The shower was great! The water pressure, the size of it... Man, when I found my own place, I was making sure it had a great shower! And the towels, man, they were soft! I don't think I had ever loved towels as much as I did in that moment. Yes, I did remind myself that I was acting strange, even for me, but then I reminded myself that I had been living in my _car _for, like, two weeks!

I had had the sense to bring a change of clothes in with me, hiding them in my backpack, which was where I put the ones I had been wearing on my way in. Once dry and dressed, I made my way downstairs, though hesitant. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say?

But when I was actually down the stairs, and I had found Deaton in the kitchen, he practically forced food into my hands, taking my mind off of what I was supposed to do and say. Instead, I focused on completely stuffing my face with whatever Deaton put in front of me.

"God! I haven't had chocolate cake in years!" I groaned, happily – shut up, it was chocolaty goodness!

"I'm glad you approve." Deaton replied, easily, placing a glass of coke in front of me too.

_Man, I love sugar!_

The amount I had eaten since I had walked into Deaton's kitchen was more than I ate in a month or two back in Dallas. I'm not even kidding or exaggerating, I was being one hundred percent truthful right now.

And Deaton seemed to have caught on.

"How long had you been living like that?" he asked, hesitantly. "Before you left."

"Five years." I muttered.

"Why?"

"Dad doesn't like, and I quote here, '_fucking fags_'."

Deaton didn't say anything else, thankfully. Just left me to eating.

He didn't say anything until I had finished and he handed me a bag of food – I was kind of surprised with that... I thanked him, which he just shrugged off, before he actually spoke.

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to take my guest room?" he asked. "Your mother would hate for you to be out there."

I shook my head.

"I prefer my car." I grinned. "Besides, I get a great view of the woods."

"_So, you _do _live in your car."_ a voice behind me said, smugly.

Instead of answering, I thanked Deaton again, before shoulder barging past Erica, Derek, Boyd and Allison.

* * *

Now, as well as following me around the school, I was getting Isaac and that lot off me a place at '_Hale house_'. Well, it was mainly Isaac, but the others did a few times.

They would say how it was better than sleeping in a car. How I shouldn't be sleeping outside, especially in weather like this. But I just refused.

_Why the hell are they asking anyway?_

It got weird that _Derek _asked as well, when he came to give Isaac, Erica and Boyd a lift back to their place, after school on Wednesday – 18th September. The thing was...their offers were sincere. They weren't doing it to be mocking, they actually meant it. They were genuinely offering me a place to stay.

At first I was slightly touched. But after a short while, I became confused and suspicious again. Why would they do that for me?

_Probably because you helped Isaac._

But that didn't explain why they were being _this _nice.

_Maybe because they like you._

Pfft, yeah, that would be the day.

_Maybe because they're genuinely nice people... Maybe because they know what happened..._

No, they couldn't have. Could they? Isaac, Scott, Jackson and Boyd did see the scars and marks... But that could have been from anything, they could have though they were self inflicted. But that didn't explain the ones on my back... So that brought me back to my question:

Why?

* * *

It was Friday – 20th September – before I knew it. I was heading to my Jeep once all my lessons had finished, when I noticed Danny staring forlornly at his car- which happened to be next to mine. I would have ignored it and got in my car...but I had never seen the usually cheery guy so upset before...

I couldn't help my curiosity as I found myself walking over to him, until I was standing next to the guy and staring at the passenger side of his car. Someone – I was going to assume it was Chase, the bastard – had tagged Danny's car. In bold red letters, someone had used spray paint – the can was lying on the ground beside the car – to write '_FAG_'. I twitched slightly in anger, my hand starting to curl into a fist. Until an idea hit me.

I picked up the abandoned spray can, noticing that it was still rather full, shaking it before using it myself. On Danny's car, underneath the crude reference to those of us who preferred our own sex to the opposite, I wrote in the bold red pain '_AND PROUD_'. But I wasn't done there. No. After adding to the graffiti on Danny's car, I turned to mine and on the hood wrote '_FAG AND PROUD!_' I kept the can clutched in my hand, as I turned back around to see a surprised yet grateful and happy grin on Danny's face. I couldn't help but smirk smugly at the little accomplishment.

It was only then that I noticed how I was starting to act. For two of the members of a werewolf Pack, I had helped them without thinking. They were complete strangers, people I did not know, yet I was helping them for no reason other than I just did.

I didn't get to dwell on it much since, the next thing I knew, my back had connected with the side of my Jeep. I winced, the hard surface connecting with the bruises and still healing scars, but I managed to keep any noises from escaping. Looking up slightly, I found Derek pinning me to my Jeep, growling quietly. I caught a slight trace of red in his eyes – _Alpha, should have known _– as his grip tightened.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Jackson yelled, as the rest of the Pack ran over to Derek, Danny and me.

"_You asshole!"_

"_What the hell?!"_

"_If you have a problem with Danny, you have a problem with us."_

"_Not surprised you went to jail, if this is how you treat people that are nice to you!"_

"_Oh, you deserve so much more than a few tiny little scars!"_

I rolled my eyes, holding back a cringe at some of the things said... Of course they would think I was the one that tagged Danny's car. It wasn't like there was anyone else in the school that would. No, of course not. It had to be Stiles. _Bad Stiles, very bad Stiles. _

"What are you doing?" Danny asked – almost demanded. "Stiles didn't do this."

"He has the can." Derek snarled, not looking away from me, glaring.

"He was adding to mine and then tagged _his own car_!"

There was silence then. I was dropped to the ground again as Derek turned on his heel, looking at Danny's car and then mine, noting the wet paint of what I had wrote and the dry paint of what someone else had. Sighing, I stood up properly, fixing my clothes before looking away and starting to get in my car.

I only stopped when someone grabbed my arm,

"Thank you." Danny said once I turned around to face him.

I nodded, continuing to get in.

"If you need help getting the paint off, let me know." I muttered, before closing the door.

I left before I saw the surprise and slight shock on all of their faces.

* * *

_**So, question, what do you think of the new cover picture for this?**_

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	6. That's Been Mine

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I think, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 5**

**Stiles**

It was later that afternoon that I heard someone approaching my Jeep. I sighed, figuring it was one of the wolves wanting to berate me some more. Sitting up and sliding out of the back seat, I found that while I was right about the person being one of the wolves, I was wrong about the motive.

Danny was standing by his car, not too far away, looking – and smelling – a little embarrassed. Breathing a sigh of relief, not really wanting more of my past brought up from people who knew nothing about it, I made my way over to the Hawaiian, trying to come off as non-threatening as possible. Danny and Isaac were the only two that seemed to be understanding enough to be nice. It actually felt kind of nice to have someone on my side, after nine years of having no one.

The red paint was still stuck onto the side of the car. I couldn't help the small wince at seeing that first word, but I couldn't stop looking at it.

"Er... Hey." Danny said, smiling slightly. "Look, I'm sorry about..."

"Don't." I interrupted. "Don't apologise for something you didn't do. I hate it when people do that."

"But I..."

"No. If that's what you came here for then you might as well leave."

Danny went quiet for a moment. I thought he was going to turn around and leave, just leave me to myself. I really did think that when he looked down, staring intently at the ground, like it was going to give him all the answers he needed.

I turned to get back into my Jeep, or take a run; I hadn't quite decided which. But then Danny's head snapped up and took a step forward. I froze, not knowing what he was going to do next. I had learned that it hurt less if you were still and waited it out – well, if the person _was _going to attack you. But I couldn't see Danny doing that... Well, just because I couldn't _see _it, didn't mean he _wouldn't_. I knew that from firsthand experience.

"I was wondering, could you come by the house tomorrow?" Danny asked, a little nervous. "To help me get the paint off? I would ask Isaac, but last time I let him help me with my car the door ended up coming off."

"The door came off." I repeated, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah... He got a bit frustrated. But you've got to love him. It's hard not to."

The scent coming off of Danny then was so strong, that I was amazed I hadn't actually started chocking. The only other time I had caught this scent was when my mom was alive. _Love_. It was obvious that Danny loved Isaac, and vice versa... And I didn't know these guys. That was how obvious it was.

"What time tomorrow?" I asked, after a moment's silence.

The smile Danny had then pretty much beat the one from earlier, after I fixed the tag on his car and put the same on mine.

"Can you come over at about ten?" he grinned. "I can help do yours too."

"Thanks." I nodded, not being able to resist giving a small – like, _tiny _– smile of my own. "I'll be there."

After a quick goodbye, Danny jumped in his car, driving away.

_Yeah, I'm going for a run._

* * *

I loved running. When I turned I could be either a fox (a real fox, with purple eyes), a wolf (an actual wolf, or in my beta form, with red eyes) or I could be half and half (beta wolf form, with one red eye and one purple eye). Normally, when I ran, it would be as a fox – unless I wanted to stay human. Foxes were easy to ignore, wolves weren't. Besides, I loved the feeling of the wind in my fur, the ground underneath my claws.

One night, when I was fifteen, I had been locked out of the house – on purpose. I spent the night as a fox running around the nearby woods and sleeping in my garden, until I was able to slip back inside the house and into my room.

It gave me that sense of freedom. It made me feel safe.

As I ran in my foxy form, I thought about the past two weeks and three days. So far I was the talk of the town, pretty much everyone hated me, I had save a werewolf from bullies, I had tagged my own car after fixing the one on another werewolf's car, I had pinned to my car and had my own past used against me... Oh, and the group of werewolves found out I was homeless, living in my car. Couldn't forget that.

It was troubling how these people, these werewolves, had gotten under my skin so quickly, how they ended up finding out more about me over this short amount of time. No one ever knows much about me, not like they did... I wasn't even sure _how _they found out... I would have to ask about that...

I ran around the woods a few times, before I headed back to my Jeep. It was a nice afternoon, even if it was cold, but I couldn't run around forever... Eventually, I had to stop.

* * *

The next day – Saturday 21st – I was up later than usual, but I was at the Hale house at ten, like I said I would be. Danny was already outside by the time I turned up, wearing old clothes – black sweats and an old white t-shirt. I parked my Jeep a short distance away, jumping out once I switched the engine off.

I was still amazed at the sight of the house, never had I seen something so nice. Mom would have loved it, it was just one of those things that she would have absolutely adored and dreamed of having. It was just a shame that she would never see it.

"Stiles! You're here." Danny grinned.

"Said I'd come, didn't I." I replied. "Should we get started?"

I grabbed one of the sponges from the bucket of water near the car, not waiting for Danny to answer before I started scrubbing away at the paint. I doubted we were going to get all the paint off though; he would probably have to have a paint job done to get rid of what we couldn't get off.

I'd probably just leave it on my Jeep though. I had near enough no money, and it wasn't like there was any use in re-painting my car. This car had had a lot of damage inflicted to it over the years, especially after I came out... What were a few more dents here and there?

* * *

Danny, like Isaac, was rather chatty while we worked on his car and mine. He would try to get me involved in the conversations, but I tried to say as little as possible. It was easier on my that way. The less I said, the more I distanced myself, the more I distanced myself, the easier it was not to trust people, the easier it was not to trust people, the less I got hurt. I figured that out quickly after Zane became a bastard.

But Danny and Isaac were persistent. They didn't back down and whenever I tried to close off, they would try and pry their way back in. If the circumstances were different, I could see myself becoming friends with these two... And I wish I could, because I could really use some friends right now. But, unfortunately, that couldn't happen.

We had finished Danny's car and had moved on to my Jeep when it happened.

One by one, the rest of the wolf Pack – including Derek and Peter – appeared, guilt and embarrassment coming off of seven of them. I sighed, wondering what I could possibly be blamed for this time, or if my back would be introduced to a tree instead of my car. But nothing happened.

They all stood as a group a safe distance away from me, Isaac and Danny between us, with Peter standing slightly off to the side. I couldn't help but softly hum _Thriller _by Michael Jackson, after catching the scent of decay, as I continued to scrub the paint off of the hood of my car. I kept my back to them all, trying to finish quickly so I could make my escape. If anyone noticed, they didn't pick up on my reasoning, which just made it all the better!

I thought that they would leave me alone after seeing I was doing nothing to hurt anyone. But they just stood there. I shuffled slightly where I stood, the stares on my back starting to feel uncomfortable... It just reminded me of Dallas...

I shook myself off. I hadn't realized how long I had been in my daze until I saw that the tag I had placed on my Jeep had pretty much disappeared, all that was left was a faint red blob on the light blue hood. I chucked the sponge back into the bucket with ease, turning around to say that I was just leaving, that they really didn't need to come out here and wait for me to drive away.

But before I could get a word out, I was bombarded with apology after apology from everyone accept Danny, Isaac and Peter. The sudden noise forced me to step back until I was leaning against the hood of my Jeep, eyes wide and slightly shocked. The last time I had been in any situation with people this loud was the night I decided to leave Dallas for good. So, yeah, excuse me for being a little jumpy.

The quietened down after I practically pressed myself as far into my Jeep as I could go, though, and my hearing was suddenly taken over by the quiet again. I relaxed a little now that most of the noise had disappeared, stepping slightly away from my Jeep.

"Look, we're sorry about yesterday." Boyd said.

"We didn't realise you were helping." Erica added.

"We shouldn't have jumped to conclusions." Allison agreed.

"Or said what we said." Scott mumbled.

"Or have you pushed up against your car." Lydia sighs, looking towards Derek.

"We're sorry." Jackson muttered.

"And we'd like you to reconsider about staying here." Derek finished.

That was the first time anyone had actually ever apologised to me. To be honest, I had no idea what to say... Or do, for that matter. So I just stood there, gaping at them.

It actually took me a moment to actually figure out the rest of what had been said – what Derek had said, specifically. I frowned... Again with the offering a place to stay.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I demanded.

"Doing what?" Erica asked, rolling her eyes.

I smirked slightly.

"For you? Being a bitch would be a good answer." I answered, smoothly. "But meant, why do you keep saying about me staying here? What's with that?"

"Well, you _are _homeless." Jackson said.

"You helped Isaac." Allison smiled.

"And you helped Danny. Twice." Scott added.

"So you thought you would treat me like a charity case?" I asked.

Even with all the arguments, that was how I saw it. Poor Stiles has no home, but helped out two wolves, so of course the rest of the Pack wants to say thanks. I shook my head slightly, looking directly at Derek.

"Thanks for the offer, but, no." I told him.

"Won't at least take some time to think about it?" Isaac asked, quietly, as I started walking towards the driver's side of my Jeep.

_Damn that Pup..._

Sighing, I looked at him properly, turning back around.

"If it will stop you all from bugging me, then fine, I'll think about it." I sighed.

"Great!" Peter grinned. "Now, while this is _fun_, can we get back to our previous activities?"

Now that peaked my interest.

"Training." Boyd told me, noticing the look I got.

"You should come watch." Isaac grinned.

* * *

So, that was how I was found watching the nine wolves and one human train, in their 'training room'. Well, Allison was a hunter – it was easy to spot after a while. I watched as the Betas – of course none of them knew I knew they were werewolves – fought each other, building their skills.

The problem was, they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses all too well. They knew each other's fighting skills too well. They needed to fight against someone new, someone that could knock them down a peg or two – especially Jackson, the arrogant douche. That's what justified what I said next.

"Can I try?" I asked.

They all turned to look at me, no one more surprised than Derek. There was silence for a short amount of time before anyone actually spoke.

"Go against Isaac." Derek said.

So I did.

And I got Isaac on the ground within five seconds.

Danny lasted seven.

Erica lasted ten.

Lydia lasted eleven

Allison lasted ten.

Peter lasted four – _HA! _

Boyd lasted thirteen.

Scott lasted twelve.

Jackson lasted twelve.

I hadn't even broken a sweat by the time I was done with the nine of them. I looked towards Derek, shrugging at the raised eyebrow.

He shrugged off his black t-shirt, standing on the other side of the mats. Well this was going to be interesting.

At first, we just circled around the edge, not getting any closer than we were already. But when Derek did move, all I saw was a blur of black. But, being part fox, I was agile. I moved out of the way quickly, avoiding the attack easily.

We moved like that for a while – one launching themselves forward, while the other moved just as fast out of the way. We made contact a few times, only just though.

I had never fought someone this skilled before.

* * *

Thirty five minutes later, and we were still going. Derek was a good fighter, better than his uncle. I was surprised that the older wolf had lasted such a sort amount of time, while his nephew was holding out so much longer.

I grinned as we continued. I loved the feeling of control and power from this. Knowing, for once, I didn't have to hold back on my strength. Knowing that I didn't have to cower away from anything or anyone. It was such a great feeling; one I wished never went away.

It was while my mind was occupied with those thoughts that Derek managed to trip me and pin me to the ground.

It was then I started to panic. One too many times I had been in this position before, being held down, by Zane. I grew tense before I started to struggle, but Derek didn't get off. He wouldn't let go. The panic started rising and I knew that any moment now I...

But nothing happened.

Derek, in the end, realised what was going on and got off of me. I scrambled backwards and up onto my feet as quick as possible, not missing the curious gazes of everyone in the room...

"I'm not good with people touching me a whole lot." I explained. "You guys already know about my past, somehow, so you'll know my criminal history... For the time I spent in jail, I was usually the youngest out of everyone. And...uh... They don't tend to want to leave you alone, if you get what I mean..."

I cringed just thinking about it. You know, this wasn't actually a lie; everything I was saying was true. It just may not have been the reason for my freak out. But they didn't need to know that, now did they.

Seeing the looks on their faces though, I needed to correct what I had said.

"Oh, no! No, no, no, no!" I rushed. "They didn't, like, _do _anything... Just...I'm not too great with the touching."

They all nodded, the expressions on their faces relaxing slightly.

And then it hit me.

Zane or dad could be out there right now, looking for me. They could be in town right at this moment. If I went back to those woods, alone, who's to say they won't find me, if they were here? I wouldn't be able to do anything to fight _them _off...

There was only one thing I could do.

"So..." I breathed. "Where am I sleeping?"

* * *

"No, seriously, what's the catch?" I asked, not believing it for a second.

"There is no catch." Derek growled. "This is your room."

"You're kidding? I thought for sure I'd be on the couch. Or the floor!"

Derek sighed; I could tell he was fed up.

But it was hardly my fault. The walls of 'my' new room were painted a dark-ish grey. Shelves were put up everywhere, a desk by the window, shelves dotted around the room... And a bed! An actual bed that hadn't been mutilated! An actual springy, comfy mattress with soft, squish pillows! A guy could get used to this.

"So... I get to stay in here?" I clarified.

"Yes!" Derek groaned. "We've been over this already!"

"I know, but..."

"But, what?!"

I stayed quiet for a moment, wondering if I should say what was stuck on the tip of my tongue.

Sighing, I sat down on the edge of the mattress, staring at my hands as they curled and uncurled into fists, before talking.

"But it's the first thing that's been _mine_ in a while." I told him.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


	7. Flashbacks

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please review XD**

**Chapter 6**

**Stiles**

I didn't really sleep Saturday night. Sure, I must have gotten at least two hours, but it wasn't much. Instead, I lay on the bed, staring up the ceiling, or walking over to the window and looking outside...

At one point, early in the morning when everyone was still asleep, I jumped from the window and down to the ground, just so I could walk around the woods for a bit. Of course, before I walked for a while, I took the box of clothes I had in there – five pairs of jeans, five t-shirts and one hoodie – back into the room I was staying in, via the window. That was the only box I brought in – though did bring in my school stuff – leaving everything else in my locked Jeep.

But I couldn't keep walking now it was morning. I had to get back to the house. To be honest, I don't know if they would look for me if they couldn't find me, but it was better not to test it out.

* * *

Sunday morning was very quiet. I sat quietly on one of the chairs in the kitchen, looking over the research I had done so far for my English assignment. I had gotten everything I had looked up written down already, the rest I could do myself. There wasn't any better time to do it than when you were by yourself and in the quiet.

Sighing a little, I flipped to the back page of my writing pad, using the pencil I had with me to just make little doodles everywhere on the page. I had thought about bringing the sketching pads I had bought in with me...but thought against it when I realised there was a possibility that they could find them...

I didn't know how long I had been sitting there, or how long I had been doodling in fact, but I almost missed the sound of someone walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. Luckily I caught it though, so I wasn't surprised when I saw Derek walk in and go straight for the coffee machine.

"Want some coffee?" Derek asks, voice rough and deeper than the day before, as he grabbed a mug for himself.

I frowned a little, glancing towards the kitchen door. My lack of an answer causing him to turn around.

"Am I allowed?" I questioned, quietly, my gaze flickering to Derek, then the door and back again.

I knew it would get me a strange look, but I didn't expect him to understand. He didn't say anything about it though, only nodded in reply to my question. Looking back down to the writing pad in front of me, I returned to the doodling, eyes stick flickering towards the door.

"Yeah, please." I mumbled.

For a moment, Derek just stood there, doing nothing, just staring at me, probably silently judging me.

The only reason I asked is because, back in Dallas, if dad ever found out I just took something to eat or drink – he always found out – he would use it as more of an excuse to get the whip and knife and, sometimes, a cigarette or a candle or a lighter. The burning was always the worst...it only started within the past two years, so it would be.

It was only a few seconds before Derek finally turned around again, grabbing a second mug, before switching the coffee machine on. He sat down as he waited, sitting in the chair at the head of the table, which was to my left – so I was sitting on his right. Knowing that Derek was an Alpha – not that any of them knew that I knew they were werewolves – it felt strange sitting like that. It shouldn't be me sitting to his right, that should be his second in command...

Derek leaned his elbows on the table, hunching ever so slightly. Now that he was so close, I couldn't help but let my eyes flick over to the door more often... It wasn't my fault; it was a nervous habit... But Derek didn't say anything about it.

"You take anything with it?" he asked, quietly.

"Cream. Sugar." I muttered – shut up, it's how I liked my coffee.

Derek just nodded, not saying anything else. I noticed that he was kind of like Boyd, not saying much. Unless you pissed him off. Though Derek did say more than Boyd... Just not to me.

* * *

Later on, when everyone was down, we migrated into the living room. Well, I was dragged, much to my displeasure. Isaac seemed to have forgotten the 'not-keen-on-touching' thing. I tried to tell him, but he was just talking and talking and talking.

As soon as he let me go, I sat down on the floor and pressed my back into the corner where the couch met the wall. Isaac frowned, sitting on the couch in the closest seat to me, with Danny next to him, then Scott, then Allison. On the other couch were Boyd and Erica, in one of the armchairs Jackson sat with Lydia on his lap, while Peter and Derek had the other two armchairs.

I was sat closest to the door with my writing pad on my lap, closed this time. I put the pencil behind my ear, letting my ear hold it up, not looking at anyone. I was still glancing towards the door, actually wondering how fast I could get to the front door and to my Jeep...

"If you're going to make a break for it, go ahead." Peter drawled from where he was sitting.

My head snapped, seeing everyone looking at me – only Peter with a slight amusement. Looking down again, I jumped up, quickly walking out of the living room and back into the kitchen, hiding from the stares and judgemental looks. It was a habit, I couldn't help it! Besides, why give them anything else to laugh about, when I could hide the fucking _blush _that I could practically _feel _spreading across my face.

Of course, that was quickly replaced by pain.

"Shit!" I hissed.

One of the knives from someone's breakfast was pointing too far over the edge of the counter. Now, you would think it would be blunt, wouldn't do anything, right? Wrong. This one was sharp, the pointed tip of the metal sticking out dangerously. Any other time, it would have moved around with me, not dig into my side. But then knives were never usually trapped between two chopping boards.

The knife stayed in my knife, digging into one of the recently healed over cuts, reopening it. I could feel the warm slide of blood trickle down my side, seeing the way it pooled on the floor as it dripped off of me and knife itself.

Carefully, I pulled the offending metal out, dropping it onto the counter with a clang. With a sigh, I pulled off my now-ruined-shirt, pressing the balled up fabric to the reopened cut, trying to quicken the act of stopping the bleeding. It stung, yeah, but I had had worse.

It was just going to be hard to bandage it up... Damn awkward place.

"Stiles?" a quiet voice asked from behind me.

Jumping around, I came face to face with a frowning Isaac standing in the doorway. "You ok?"

"Yeah, fine." I muttered. "Stupid knife."

"Follow me."

* * *

I ended up following Isaac into the bathroom upstairs, the door pulled closed so no one would walk past and see. Isaac helped clean my wound and stop the bleeding – though my healing powers really helped with that.

I threw my t-shirt in the bin – now I was down to four t-shirts, great. I couldn't help but flinch away anytime he actually touched the cut or anything. Seriously, not good with the touching.

"So, how did you get all these scars?" Isaac asked, while wrapping the bandage around the wound.

"Did them myself." I replied, slowly, going tense as soon as he asked.

And, yeah, I admit, it's stupid to lie to a werewolf. Like, _really _stupid, I knew that. But it was a reflex. It's what I always did if anyone asked. It's what I did anytime dad dragged me to the hospital. I had to say that, I couldn't say he was the one doing it with him in the room!

"What about the ones on your back?" he asked.

Sighing, I sat down next to him on the side of the bath, now he was finished with the bandage. I kept staring at the floor, my leg jittering up and down as I rubbed my left wrist with my right hand.

"You know," Isaac said. "My dad was an abusive asshole. I used to be scared and bruised; I think he actually enjoyed it. He actually locked my in a freezer chest..."

Looking to the side, I saw that Isaac was staring straight ahead, elbows resting on his knees.

"Derek offered his help and I agreed." he continued – help meaning 'the bite', but he didn't have to know I knew. "I was still living with my dad at the time, but I ran away when he saw my cheek heal, after he threw a glass pitcher above my head and it cut me. Something killed him and man, was I happy about that."

Isaac ran a hand through his hair, giving a short humourless laugh.

"I hated the bastard." Isaac added. "But then Derek took me in. I got to know everyone else, and they helped me. I used to be at a stage where I didn't trust anyone... But they helped. _A lot_."

We stayed quiet for a few minutes. Isaac was staring straight ahead, while I was glancing between him and the door, biting my lower lip, eyebrows furrowed.

"Wh-Why are you telling me this?" I stuttered in a whisper.

"You tell me." Isaac said, looking to me.

Carefully, I stood up, pacing the small length of the bathroom, eyes still flicking to the door. With one look at Isaac's trusting look, I completely broke.

I told him everything.

I told him about my mom getting ill. About her dying when I was ten. About me hiding the fact I was gay from him until I was fourteen. About being attacked by him whenever he was home, because I was gay. About Zane and how I met him at sixteen and he used to be really nice...but then how he changed within a few months. About how Zane, like my dad, decided that attacking me would be a good idea – though his two reasons why were different to dads. About how I was thinking of moving before they almost killed me. About how I moved without either of them knowing.

I _didn't_ tell him _everything_. I just explained it briefly, giving enough that he wouldn't keep asking, but not so much that I could still get away without anyone knowing too much about me.

Isaac stayed quiet through it all and suddenly I was glad that every room in this house was soundproof... I didn't want the rest of them knowing. Isaac, hesitantly, stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. I still flinched away, but at least he understood.

"Is that why you have the tattoos?" he asked, unsurely.

"To try hide them." I nodded. "Failed big time, huh?"

"Just a little... Sorry."

"No, I knew it was a long shot. Had to try though."

"Yeah... Why do you have Genim though?"

I sighed a little, running a hand through my hair.

"I didn't want to let that part of me go." I admitted. "My mom was the only one who called me Genim after I came up with the name Stiles. It always made me feel closer to her... So I thought I'd get it tattooed."

* * *

It was later that day, around five that Sunday evening, that things went bad for Isaac...

Everything had been going fine, until he went into the kitchen where a few of the others were, while I sat on the stairs, still wanting to stay away from them, not really wanting to intrude. I could hear them all laughing and joking around. It was all going fine.

And then there was a loud crash.

I heard Isaac's elevated irregular heart rate. I could hear the others panicking, not knowing what to do. I didn't think about it as I got up and rushed into the kitchen, pushing them all out of the way. None of them liked that though, and I received many growls from the agitated wolves.

I just ignored them.

I got Isaac to sit down on the floor, back against the wall and bending forward slightly. The kid – he was a year younger than me, he was a kid – was shaking like a leaf in a winter breeze, his breathe coming in short and chocked off gasps.

I knew one way and one way only to help stop a panic attack... Thank God I was the one doing the touching right now.

I grabbed Isaac's hand, pressing it hard onto my heart. Breathing deeply and telling him to copy me. He looked up, confused, but I continued with what I was doing, repeating for him to copy me.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he actually started to listen to me.

* * *

Once Isaac had started to breathe properly, I let go of his hand so I could move to sit beside him, back against the wall. I put a hand on my back when I saw him start to freak out again though...

Guess unlike me he needed touch to feel safer... I complied with that...just this once.

I kept muttering to him about how he was fine, he was safe, that nothing was going to hurt him now. His family – because that's what they all were – were there to keep him safe, that he actually _has _a family now. Just reminding him of the little things that could keep his heart rate down breathing even. I just kept talking to him, telling him things that would keep him calm, repeating myself a lot.

We sat there for an hour before he finally calmed down enough that he wouldn't have another attack. He was embarrassed, I knew how he felt. I went through a phase of having panic attacks when I was four, for no reason at all... What made it worse was the confusion as to why I was having them and my age at the time. I haven't had one since though, thank God.

"What happened?" I asked, quietly, once I knew he was able to talk.

Isaac let out a shuddering breath, dropping his head.

"D-Dropped a g-glass." he stuttered. "R-Reminded me of..."

He couldn't finish the rest, shuddering a little more.

"Reminded you of the glass pitched." I nodded, understanding.

It was never nice to have to remember what happened in your past... No wonder the kid freaked out... I moved my hand from his back to his shoulder, squeezing it slightly and giving him a reassuring smile when he looked up, which he returned shakily.

"Well, the bastard can't get you know." I told him, my tone leaving no room for him to argue, nodding towards everyone else. "You got them. And I'll step in if you ever need me to."

Isaac's smile turned a little less shaky as he started to relax a little. I patted him on the back before helping him to stand up – when he was he was practically jumped on by Danny.

I couldn't help but laugh quietly.

* * *

Monday was alright, until later on in the day.

It was weird actually talking to people during the day and during lessons... People noticed the sudden change between the eight members of the Pack on me. They stared more, whispered more... It made me brood more.

The seven werewolves and one human seemed confused that I started trying to avoid them, purposely trying to be by myself again, I could tell they were. It was if they were choosing not to see the stares or hear the whispers... But I couldn't do that. I hadn't had anyone to teach me how to control my wolf or my fox, my mom had gotten ill before she realised I was like her... I had to teach myself how to stay in control, and I didn't really have the best control...

It showed after my last lesson. I was out on the field, heading towards the bleachers, like usual, but this time I was actually meeting my eight...acquaintances/housemates there. Instead of sitting behind the stands, I sat on them with my backpack beside me. Even though it was September, it was a nice day. The sun was shining, but it was still cold. Everybody was minding their own business.

Well, _some _were.

I heard them before I saw them. Chase and his three friends – the ones that surrounded Isaac that day I helped him out – were walking towards me. Sighing, I sat up properly, ready to stand up if I needed to fight back.

"Hey, it's the Pillow Biter." Chase sneered.

I rolled my eyes at the name calling. Honestly, did people have nothing better to do?

"What do you want?" I sighed, boredly.

"You mess with my work, I mess with you." he replied, easily.

His work? What did he mean his wo...

"You tagged Danny's car." I snarled.

"Good wasn't it?" Chase smirked. "Goes to show we don't want _fags_ like _you _around here."

"_Yeah, you pansy."_

"_Poof."_

"_Fairy."_

"_Queen."_

"_Nancy."_

"_Shirt lifter."_

"_Back door bandit."_

I didn't let any of them get any further.

I snapped, lunging at them. The one closest to me ran away after I punched him. The second went down with a kick to the stomach. The third went down after being thrown down. Which left Chase.

Glaring, I only just managed to force back my wolfing/foxing out. Only just managed to keep my eyes their usual brown. I stalked forward, growling lowly, fists shaking, as I attempted to keep my anger in check. But it was hard. I could feel my skin prickling, wanting to let my wolf out. To show this kid who was in charge here.

But I couldn't.

And I definitely wasn't expecting the punch to the face.

He really shouldn't have done that.

My resolve broke more, making me reach out, grab him by the shirt and shove him against the nearest hard surface.

"Wanna say any of them now, _buddy_?!" I spat sarcastically. "No? Wow, who's the pussy now, Chase?

"Too bad there ain't no lockers around." Chase goaded.

"Good thing I don't need a locker door."

I chucked him away from me, like I kid would an action figure when they had finished playing. I turned around, slowly, expecting the fist that came flying at me. I caught it in my hand, using the momentum to push Chase back.

If I had used my full strength, well, he would have broken every bone in his arm. Every single one snapped. _IF _I had used my full strength. Which I didn't. No, I just shoved him back hard enough to make him stumble.

I started walking towards him again, not expecting to be grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. The two of Chase's friends that had stayed pinned my arms down as Chase crouched over me. Now, I would have fought back...

If I wasn't remembering what happened last time I was like this.

I completely froze, muscles tense, not being able to move, breathing heavily. Chase's smirk grew as he pulled back his fist, pounding his fist into the same place as before. But, still, I couldn't do anything.

But then they were gone, all three of them.

Slowly, I sat up, and I couldn't actually believe what I saw.

Allison, Erica and Lydia were all punching up one guy; Isaac, Jackson and Scott on another; Boyd and Danny against Chase.

I sat there, trying to stop my head from spinning. Only when I saw Chase break free from Boyd's grip and pulled a knife on Danny.

Pulled out a knife.

A _knife_.

_**FLASHBACK – Saturday, November 15**__**th**__** 2008 – 14 year old Stiles**_

"_No, dad! Please! NO!" I yelled, as the blade sliced across my skin again and again, crossing over the whip marks._

_Tears rolled down my face as I desperately tried to get away from the pain, desperately trying to just get away. But dad wouldn't let me. He kept a tight grip on my hair, pulling head back, one knee pressing into my lower back. _

_The pain was overwhelming, too much! I couldn't... I just couldn't... _

_Another scream tore out of my throat as he dragged the sharp blade along one of the whip lines, making the wound deeper. But as suddenly as the pain was there, it was gone. _

_I thought he had lost interest now; hopefully he would just let me go. Yeah, I would be so lucky. He kicked me across the basement floor, my back pressing into the cold, hard floor. I tried to sit up, but he just back handed me, he head turning so fast that it hit the wall. Dazed and probably concussed, I fell back onto the floor, my vision blurring from the tears._

_The blade was dragged over my stomach and chest, breaking old scars and making new ones. My throat had been rubbed raw from screaming, no sound other than pathetic little whimpers and chocked off sobs able to escape._

"_Please, dad." I begged. "Stop!"_

"_You are no son of mine!" he roared. "You filthy, disgusting, fucking fag!"_

_With each word, he made a new cut...the deepest being on 'fag'. The cut ran from my right side to my left hip. _

_Dad threw the knife onto the floor, by my head, demanding that I clean it. He kicked me again when I didn't move right away, sending me skidding across the rough, uneven floor of the basement, towards the table to knife cleaning products._

_Yeah, I had to clean the knife that tortured me. Ironic, huh?_

_**END OF FLASHBACK – Back to Monday, September 23**__**rd**__** 2013**_

Ok, yeah, I had _really _snapped now.

"I've had it!" I growled.

I ran as fast as I could over to Chase, grabbing him from behind and throwing him to the ground, twisting the knife out of his hand, throwing it quickly off to the side.

"You know what?" I snarled as he scrambled backwards. "I've fucking _had it _with people like you! Thinking you're all high and mighty, thinking you can do whatever the fuck you want! Well, guess what, the sun doesn't shine out of your arse you narcissistic, homophobic, abusive bastard! If you knew _half _of what some people go through on a daily bases then maybe, _just maybe_, you would back the _fuck off_! And I swear if you don't..."

Someone stepped between Chase and me then. Clad in black, it was easy to tell it was Derek.

In a way, I was glad Derek had turned up, able to intervene before I ripped Chase's head off. On the other hand, I liked the idea of Chase not being able to talk again... So, mixed feelings really, mixed feelings.

"_Go home. Go near any of them again, you'll find yourself headed somewhere you don't want to be." _Derek said, calmly, making Chase and his two buddies run for it.

Derek turned around to face the nine of us, raising an eyebrow in question.

_Derek and those stupid eyebrows!_

The others quickly relented, explaining what they had seen, while I just glared, ignoring the blinding pain in my eye. I didn't do anything until a hand – Derek's – made its way towards my face... Instinctively, I flinched back out of reach, taking a step back as well.

I grabbed my backpack off of the bleachers, hefting it onto my shoulder, wincing at the small pain shooting through the reopened cut from yesterday.

"Thanks, guys..." I muttered, quietly, as I turned around, dropping my head.

I wrapped my arms around my torso, staring at the ground, making my way towards my Jeep without another word.

* * *

Chase avoided us from then on. Sure, he sent dirty looks and stuff, but Derek seemed to have really scared him. So school kind of got a little better.

People were still scared of me though. It annoyed me a little, since I couldn't go out anywhere, most of the time being turned down by shops if I try to buy anything.

That's why, on Wednesday, when Peter suggested we all go out for dinner, I knew it would be a bad idea. All the wolves picked up on my sudden change in mood, looking to me but trying to be subtle about it.

"You won't get in anywhere with me." I sighed. "They rarely do."

A sudden sympathy filled the group – even Peter, Derek and Jackson! I rubbed the back of my neck, staring at the ground. That's when an idea popped into my head.

"When was the last time you had a home cooked meal?" I asked, smiling a little.

"Christmas." they all replied.

My smile dropped immediately, as I speed walked into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients as I looked in the cupboards, fridge and freezer – thank God werewolves need a lot of food!

"Stiles, what are you doing?" Erica asked, somewhere behind me.

"Cooking, duh." I grinned.

"Oh my God, he'd going to poison us!" Jackson cried, dramatically. "We're going to die."

_Yeah, die from the deliciousness!_

* * *

Spaghetti bolognaise was my choice in dish. Why not? I was good at making it! That with some garlic bread...

I was doing well so far, watching the mince as it browned while I continued to chop and dice and stuff. I liked cooking. Cooking and baking. Though I preferred baking. Baking gave you sweet things... What I liked when I cooked/baked was that, like music and drawing, it would make me forget everything, ignore everything else.

Which was probably why I freaked so much and pressed the knife I had to the throat of whoever came up behind me and touched my shoulder, after flipping them to the floor. I pressed the knife a little harder against their neck...

Until I saw it was Peter.

My eyes widened as I took in the older Hale's face, dropping the knife to the side and scrambling back, pushing myself against the wall.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me!" I babbled, over and over again.

I vaguely noticed everyone else gathering at the door as I started pacing, still mumbling out apologies and begging him not to hurt me...

"Stiles, I'm fine. Calm down." Peter said, unsurely, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean too. Just... Touching and knife and... And oh my God you're bleeding! Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!" I all but screamed.

I stopped pacing, grabbing fistfuls of my hair, backing up as someone tried to step forward. Peter, quickly, got up to his feet, keeping everyone back.

"Stiles, it's ok." Peter repeated. "I'm not mad. It's just a little scratch, you didn't mean it. It's ok. Just... Calm down."

The only thing that brought me out of my panic was placing my hand on the oven, remembering that I was cooking. So, picking up the knife, I shoved it into the sink, grabbed a glean one, moved the mince around and, shakily, turned back to the cooking.

Isaac stayed in the kitchen with me, sitting on the counter and handing me anything I needed.

He understood.

* * *

They did actually eat what I made. And they loved it. So I told them I would cook every night, unless they wanted to order in. The question was brought up on how I knew to cook... So I told them the truth. That my mom taught me, and after she died it was either I cook or starve to death. Dad couldn't cook for shit! Of course, I left out the bit where I rarely ate, and only then it was three small meals a week. I cooked every night that week. And I was happy to do it. At least they all knew not to touch me when I was distracted...

It was Saturday afternoon, after lunch, that things turned funny. For me anyway. Everyone was outside training, since it was sunny and not too cold, and I was watching Allison, Erica and Lydia practise with some crossbows – even though Erica and Lydia were werewolves. I didn't realise how long I had been watching, or how it could look to their boyfriends.

Probably why I had Boyd, Jackson and Scott come up to me and tell me that the girls were spoken for and that I wasn't to do anything with them and, really, they were just being overly protective. It was sweet but still funny.

I mean, hadn't they even noticed?!

But then they said I better not try to steal them away. My laughing seemed to confuse them and draw the attention of everyone then, as I gripped my sides and just...laughed and laughed.

"You think... That I..." I snorted. "Oh, wow!"

"What's so funny?" Boyd demanded.

"The girls should be the ones worrying!"

As soon as the words left my mouth, all three of the girls grinned to each other, nodding. I kind of expected that they knew, but man was I glad the guys didn't!

"What? What are you talking about?" Scott asked, tilting his head to the right, like the confused little puppy he was.

"Too much breast, not enough cock." I laughed.

Still confused looked.

"Oh, geez!" I groaned. "I'm _gay_! You know, I like dudes! Is it that hard? Kind of why I put 'FAG AND PROUD' one my car and not 'EX-CON AND PROUD'."

And they were staring. Well, some were. The three girls, Danny and Isaac were all smirking – looked like they guessed. Peter was chuckling quietly to himself. Boyd, Jackson and Scott just seemed embarrassed and a little surprised. Derek just looked neutral, as always.

I just couldn't stop laughing...

* * *

After dinner that night, I offered to clean up like I did every night. Accept this time I got help. Help in the form of Derek. It was going well, I was washing, he was drying. Both of us enjoying the silence.

Well, the silence that was there _before _we both slipped on the tiles in the kitchen – stupid water – sending both of us tumbling to the ground. Derek lay flat on his back on the floor. With me on top of him. Where he was holding onto my hips. And our faces got really close.

I pretty much flew off of him.

"I am _so _sorry." I muttered. "Sorry. Didn't mean to. Water, stupid water!"

"_Stiles..."_

"Really, really sorry."

"_Stiles."_

"Really didn't mean to."

"_Stiles!"_

I stopped, looking up at Derek, seeing that blank expression on his face.

"Shut up." he told me. "It's ok, stop apologising."

"Sorry." I winced. "Can... Can I go to bed now?"

"Why are you asking?"

Looking down at the ground, I didn't answer, eyes flicking to the door. I heard a sigh and Derek mumble that I could do whatever I wanted, that I really didn't need to ask if I could do something.

If only he knew the truth.

* * *

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	8. Batman Vs Iron Man, And Shopping?

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 7**

**Stiles**

_I was trapped in the corner, my back pressed against the wall. I couldn't get away, I couldn't escape. The door was too far away, my heart was pounding... As blood ran down my face, I could feel the steady throbbing of my nose, cheek and stomach, the pain pulsating, almost as if it was alive and clawing at me. The panic mixed in with the pain wasn't helping me in anyway._

_But neither was the figure slowly stalking towards me, a sadistic grin present on his face. He was a short way a way; I could probably reach a window in time and risk the jump... But I couldn't move. Why couldn't I move?! _

_He was walking slowly, confidently, towards me a baseball bat swinging from his right hand, while I stood there, eyes wide with fear and mouth dry. _

"_Please... Don't..." I whispered. "Don't..."_

_Somehow he got from three quarters of the way to me, to standing right in front of my, left hand braced on the wall by my head. His blonde hair hung down in front of his violet eyes, just covering the very top of them. His tanned skin contrasted the white shorts he was wearing, ones almost too tight to be classed as clothing, not leaving anything to the imagination. Which made everything that much worse... He bent his head down to look at me, since he was a good foot taller than me. He always used his height to his advantage, to intimidate me. I never admitted that it actually worked._

"_Don't worry, babe." Zane grinned, stroking my cheek with the back to the hand holding the bat. "I won't hurt you."_

_I let go of the breath I was holding, believing that he actually wouldn't hurt me, believing that maybe he would actually leave me alone this time. That maybe, just maybe, he would stop._

"_Unless you give me a reason to." he added on the end._

_I went tense again, pressing further back into the wall, just wishing is would break so I could run. Run far away, somewhere he and my dad can't find me... Somewhere neither of them can hurt me again._

_The hand Zane had pressed against the wall slowly slid down the wall, until the tips of his fingers brushed the middle of my right thigh. My breathing started getting heavier as the panic started to overwhelm me. My mind was screaming at me to run, to get the hell out of there... But I still couldn't move. _

_As slowly as his hand had moved down the wall, Zane started to move it up my thigh, drawing small circles over the denim of my jeans, getting higher and higher. The trail he was making stopped at my hip and I thought that maybe he would stop there._

_But he didn't. He never did._

_His hand started moving inwards, towards my crotch, like always. Only then did I finally move. I got both hands working, pressing them against his shoulders and shoving him back, making him stumble. The lust that was once there, though not completely disappeared turned into a fiery rage. _

_I didn't move quick enough. The bat hit my ribs so hard that I felt some of them break. Three of them broke, the others bruised... My breath left me as I dropped to the floor, back still against the wall. The bat was brought down on my stomach some more – the only place he ever used it – getting in five more hits before he got bored and through the bat to the side. He grabbed something off of the table though, before kicking me until I was lying completely on my back. He straddled me quickly, flicking the lighter until the orange flame lapped at the air, burning like the fires of Hell. _

"No_! Zane, please! Don't!" I whimpered, trying in vain to get away. _

"_Yeah, that's it baby, _beg_." Zane murmured. "_Beg_ for me."_

_Somehow, in these situations, Zane and dad always seemed to be able to overpower me. That's how he managed to make me stop struggling so much before he dropped the lighter on my chest – he got my shirt off before I was backed up against the wall. _

_I screamed. Wouldn't you?! Being burnt over and over again, the fire scorching and blackening your skin? The flames licking at your bare skin as you're pinned down and defenceless? Wouldn't you if you felt the pain? The blinding heat, like a fiery furnace, just waiting to engulf your whole body, until you're nothing but ashes? _

_But then something changed. Instead of using the beating as a way to find release, since I wouldn't give in to what he really wanted, Zane did something new._

_He tried to get what he wanted anyway, by force. No amount of struggling seemed to get him off me and I knew, _I knew_, I wouldn't be getting out of this. He would take what he wanted and leave me lying there, hating myself. _

_And there was nothing I could do about it._

I woke up early hours of Sunday – 29th September – morning, screaming and sweating and shaking and panting... Stupid Chase, making me have stupid flashbacks, giving me stupid nightmares.

The nightmare itself seemed so real. But then it would. Everything, until the bit with Zane trying to take what he wanted by force, all happened. That had happened two years ago, when I was seventeen and he was nineteen, and he knew it would rape – or attempted rape – if he did anything. Yet he still tried, every time.

I laid there for a while, just staring up at the ceiling, before my head lolled to the side so I was looking out of the window. The sky was clear; I had a great view of the moon and the stars. I loved nights like these, when I could just look up and just smile. It was nights like these when I could go for a run... Especially after a nightmare like that.

"Yeah, I'm going for a run." I muttered to myself, as I slid out of the bed a slipped on my sneakers and my red hoodie.

I jumped out of the window, just to save time.

* * *

I ran as a human this time, just so I could feel the icy wind against my face, so I could prove that that was all a dream. That I was here, in California, alive and... Well, alive.

That's what I liked about running. It got your heart pumping, blood flowing. It gave you that ache in your muscles that let you know that you're still alive, that you're still there. But it also gave you that freedom, well, for me it did. The freedom to just run and run, even though there was no one behind you trying to catch you. I loved it.

And the woods surrounding the Hale house? Well, that was new territory for me. It was somewhere I had never been before, and there were hundreds of acres of woods to run through, to explore. And I wouldn't get lost. It was amazing.

When I was a kid, I used to go running with my mom. If she ever took me to the park, I would rather run around the nearby field than go on the swings of slide or whatever. And mom would run with me. I always had so much energy, even after all the running, and we didn't find out why until I was a little older – which was when we found out I was like mom, half werewolf and half were-fox.

It explained a lot about the running – not that we told dad, thank God!

* * *

I had lost track of time while I was out running. By the time I got back to the house, my watch said it was 9:30am. I had been outside and running for seven hours straight, not even noticing the sun rising. I expected to walk through the, now open, front door and no one even notice I was gone.

But I was wrong.

As soon as I walked into the living room, all ten of my house mates looked up, relief evident on their faces. Only then did I smell the panic and worry coming off of each and every one of them.

I froze in the doorway as the all stared at me, Isaac making the brave decision to pull me into a quick and tight hug. I hadn't really been hugged since my mom died – I never let Zane, even when he was nice – so it wasn't my fault that I tensed up. But at least he let go after a short amount of time.

"We thought you decided to just...up and leave." Allison explained. "We were worried."

"We've been out trying to find you, but we couldn't find any footprints or anything to help us find you." Scott added, trying to cover up the fact that they just couldn't catch my scent.

"Why would you do that?" I frowned, confused.

They all just looked each other, equally as confused.

"What do you mean, why would we do that?" Danny asked.

I shuffled slightly, where I was standing, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth and fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

"It's not like anyone cares about me or anything that happens to me." I muttered, knowing they could all hear me. "Everybody in this town wishes I weren't here, and don't say that's not true, I heard you guys say it yourselves. You don't have to pretend to care, because I know everybody would rather I wasn't in this town or dead."

I huffed out a mirthless laugh, turning to Derek, but not looking him in the eyes.

"Can I use your shower?" I asked, quietly.

"Yeah." he replied, just as quietly. "Towels are in the cabinet."

"Thanks."

* * *

It was a little later, after I had come back downstairs in fresh clothes and having being showered, when a conversation caught my attention straight away.

Isaac and Scott were arguing over who was better: Batman or Iron Man. I was sitting on the couch this time – yeah, I no longer made myself sit on the floor – watching the two argue over the two superheroes. Everyone else? They just laughed and rolled their eyes, obviously bearing witness to this argument many times before.

"No, Iron Man is _way _better!" Isaac protested. "Just look at all the technology!"

Shaking my head, I could allow this to carry on. There was obviously one winner in this argument.

"Sorry, Isaac, but Scotty's right." I told him. "Batman is way cooler."

I expected the stares. Honestly, I did. I knew that if I opened my mouth and said it then they would all look at me like I had grown another head. I mean, it was the first conversation that I had put myself into without anyone talking to me first.

"What?" I asked anyway.

"What?! How do you figure _Batman _is better?!" Isaac demanded.

"It's simple really. If Iron Man lost his suit, he is just a man with a lot of money. But if _Batman_ lost his suit, he is a ninja! So, therefore, Batman is better."

Isaac just sat there blinking at me with his wide eyed puppy face, while Scott was grinning like a mad man – not a mad man with a blue box, just a mad man.

"How do you know about all this nerd stuff?!" Scott beamed, turning to face me properly.

I tilted my head to the right a little, before quietly standing up and walking out of the living room. I could hear the confusion as I made my way out to my Jeep, unlocking it so I could grab one of the boxes – one of the largest – out of it. This was my second most precious box that I had managed to bring with me, but I couldn't exactly just tell them what I had and not show them! I had to do this properly.

You can imagine the looks I got when I walked back into the living room with this big box, setting it down in front of me as I sat back down on the couch.

"Open it." I said, nodding towards the box.

Carefully, Scott lifted the lid off, his and Isaac's eyes almost bulging out of their heads. I collected comic books since I was able to read. Mainly Batman and Iron Man, but I had a few others thrown in there too.

"Oh my God!" Scott and Isaac yelled, beaming. "You're an undercover nerd!"

I couldn't help but grin and flush slightly, especially when the two were talking about how awesome this was and that now they would have someone to settle their other disputes and they would have someone else to watch the films with. No one had ever talked about me like that before...

"Why haven't you brought your things in the house?" Derek questioned, eyeing the box.

I turned to look at him, flushing now for a completely different reason.

"In case I need a getaway car." I whispered, before raising my voice to a normal talking level. "Besides, I brought my clothes in!"

Isaac stayed quiet through this, since he was the only one who knew why I may need to escape. He was the only one who knew.

"I've only ever seen in you in like five outfits." Lydia said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah..." I replied, stretching out the word.

Lydia looked around at everyone, before he eyes finally settled on Jackson. He was already snickering and grinning like the cat that got the cream. Suddenly, I really wish I had lied...

"Well, looks like we better get to the cars." Jackson grinned, grabbing Lydia's hand. "We're going to the mall."

Everyone smirked as they got up and left, leaving me sitting on the couch with wide eyes, which just made them smirk more.

"You can ride with me." Derek aid, plainly, waiting for me to get up and follow.

Oh boy, oh boy.

* * *

_**The shopping trip will be next :3**_

_**Please, please review XD **_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


	9. Unexpected

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 8**

**Stiles**

Ok, so Derek had a black Camaro. With leather seats. Now don't get me wrong, I love my Jeep. She's a beautiful car and I don't care what people say about here. But _damn_! Talk about a sexy car for a sexy guy!

But not even thinking about Derek's car could make me any less jittery. My left leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down; the fingers on my right hand drummed on my right thigh; the nail on my left thumb was getting murdered by my teeth...

So, yeah... Jittery.

Even though I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD, I did actually have a few qualities of someone with it. I was unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings, constantly fidgeting; I was unable to settle to tasks...well, some tasks anyway, it depended what they were; I had excessive physical movement, but I had started getting a handle on that; I talked excessively, but only when I trusted the person, which hadn't happened since mom; I sometimes acted without thinking.

So now, sitting in the calm and quiet, I couldn't help but fidget in my seat. Hence my jittery nature. Some things had gotten worse over time, once the beatings started. Like the not being able to sit still in the calm or quiet. Usually that was what it would be like before dad would turn around and hit me. And since I didn't know these people, didn't know Derek...the fidgeting was worse than usual.

On top of it all, the skin of my right forearm started to burn, like I had a lighter held to it. I couldn't stand the irritation, the burning coming to a point where I had to try and scratch away the pain. This wasn't anything new; the burning had made an appearance before. Of course, at that time, the skin had broken... The pain wouldn't stop, so I kept scratching, my claws coming into play when I felt as if my human nails weren't working, making the already forming marks deeper... Those scars, unlike the ones on my back and torso, had disappeared.

"Stiles." a slightly irritated sigh came.

I didn't answer, just continued to pull at the skin with my nails, trying in vain to get rid of the itch, the chosen spot becoming very red, very fast. But it seemed that no matter what I did to it – left it, scratched it, pressed my palm/fist to it – it just got _worse_!

I didn't know I broke the skin of my forearm until it started to sting and a hand had grabbed my left wrist. My head snapped up and to the side quickly, trying separately to get my arm away, coming face to face with Derek. A frowning Derek. A..._worried_ – was that worried or concerned? Wait they're the same thing aren't they? – Derek.

Derek didn't let go. Not until I calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his hold...which I will admit took longer than necessary for the average person... He didn't let go of my wrist until I had relaxed back into the seat a little, even though my left leg was still bouncing up and down and the fingers of my right hand were still drumming away.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, staring straight ahead, frowning slightly.

"A lot of things are wrong with me, buddy." I muttered. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."

Derek didn't reply. Instead he took his right hand – the one that had been keeping hold of my wrist – and slowly placed in on the lower part of my thigh, nearer my knee. I froze at the initial contact, staring at the offending appendage. But somehow, for some reason, I didn't feel as anxious as I normally would have... Don't get me wrong, there was still that blinding panic. It just wasn't at strong.

That had never happened before.

* * *

We pulled up outside of the mall after everyone else. The building was..._large_, that's the only way I could describe it, to be honest. It was big and mall-ish. Yeah, mall-ish... So sue me, I never really went to the mall, I didn't really know what they were like. If any of them noticed, though, they didn't say anything. No, instead, Lydia just looped her arm through mine – Erica on the other side – and together they dragged me towards the building.

"Do you have to touch me so much?" I asked, sighing yet still uncomfortable.

"Yes." Erica replied, instantly.

"Otherwise you could just run away." Lydia agreed.

I shook my head. I wouldn't be able to get them to release me, so I – reluctantly – allowed them to drag me along.

Everyone else was trailing behind us, all laughing and joking. Peter was just being sassy and sarcastic, as always... I wouldn't say I liked Peter, but it was nice to have someone as sarcastic as me around. It was fun, actually.

Well, unless it was directed at you. But it hadn't been aimed at me..._yet_.

* * *

"_Stiles, just try it on."_

"_No!"_

"_Why not, it's cute?!"_

"_Exactly! I don't do cute!"_

"_Stiles..."_

"_No!"_

"_Please..."_

"_No!"_

"_Just..."_

"_No!"_

That was pretty much how it started as soon as we entered a store.

I was being dragged into all kinds of clothing stores, having shirts and jeans and things chucked at me to go try on. Over half of the stuff went back to the racks. I had noticed though that, anytime the girls found something they liked on and fit me, they would shove the clothes towards one of the guys and drag me to a different store. When I saw the guys again, there were bags.

I didn't really like this arrangement...

* * *

One of the first few stores we went into, I noticed that there was someone watching us. The guy was around my dad's age; he was a brunette and looked like an ordinary guy. Well, until you saw the gun that was mostly hidden. You wouldn't notice it if you weren't looking hard enough, but it was there. I could smell the sharpness of wolfs bane emitting from the gun, cluing me in that he was a hunter. Not that I could tell the others that, they didn't know that I knew that they were all – apart from Allison – werewolves.

Scott noticed me glancing at the guy every now and then and, while everyone else was distracted yet tense.

"That's Chris Argent, Allison's dad." Scott told me. "He doesn't like us much. Doesn't like the fact I'm dating his daughter either."

I nodded. _So, Allison was a hunter... Huh. _I never would have pinned Allison as a hunter. She was too nice. Ok, actually, yeah, scrap that. I could see her as a hunter. Though she couldn't have been bad right? If she was living with, friends with and dating a werewolf.

I couldn't tell you what compelled me to do it, but I found myself walking over to Mr Argent. I found myself wondering why I was doing this, wondering what I was even doing. I should be running _away _from the hunter with wolfs bane bullets – not that they could kill me, thank you fox! – _not_ walking _towards _him!

But soon, I found myself face to face with the hunter.

"Er, hi, Mr Argent." I found myself saying. "So, you don't know me... Well, you probably do, the rest of the town have, anyway! I'm Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. I know your daughter. I just wanted to say that, if I were you, I would hide that gun of yours better. You wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself. Would you?"

Mr Argent blinked a couple of times before adjusting his gun, to keep in completely hidden. He glanced over my shoulder to where the rest of the Pack was standing before he turned back to me.

"And you should be careful of the company you keep." he said, calmly.

"You should keep careful of the enemies you make." I replied, simply, shrugging. "Bye, Mr Argent."

With that, I turned on my heels, walking back towards the Pack, all of us walking further into the store. I just ignored the questioning looks I was getting from all of them.

* * *

There was one store I liked...

We had walked in, after I had been promised it would be the last store of the day. I knew I was going to be even border than in the others, the girls probably going to find more in this one store than in any of the others.

But, while they went to the left, I went to the right.

"Oh." I mumbled.

To the right, I spotted t-shirts that were just me. Batman, Superman, Flash, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Hulk, Captain America. You name it. Superhero t-shirts and checkered button down shirts and shirts with funny slogans, hoodies... These were the kinds of clothes I would normally want to get. I never did back in Dallas because...well, having plain t-shirts that were off a dark colour were easier to have. Especially if you were trying to hide blood, or something. But the things I was looking at, at this instant, they were the things I should have been getting.

I started looking through the racks at everything there. There was a range of colours and pictures, everything! I would have been happy just staying there.

"Stiles, come on." Lydia called, closer than she was earlier.

"But..." I started, pointing towards the stuff around me.

"No. You're not getting anything nerdy. Now, come on."

"But..."

"Now!"

I flinched slightly at the loud and demanding tone of her voice... If it was followed up by a swift cut to the stomach, a punch to the face or fire to the back then it would have brought on a much worse reaction.

For now, I just flinched and dropped my head to stare at the ground. I moved away from the racks, shoving my hands into my pockets, making my way towards the other side of the store where they were all standing.

"Sorry." I whispered, as I walked past.

* * *

At the end of it all, I had too many bags to count. They had all been put into the back of Derek's Camaro, filling up the backseat as well as the trunk. Like, seriously, there was so much!

"I've never had this many clothes." I muttered, starring out of the windshield.

I didn't expect a reply, and that was exactly what I got... But I just had to say it. I mean, I really never had this many clothes before! I still couldn't see why these people were taking such an interest in me... I didn't know why they were helping me or why they felt the need to do anything for me... It was confusing. Just confusing and stressful and...

And kind of nice...

It was nice to have people do that for me. Sure, was still wary of it all and everything... But it was nice even just _imagining _that someone cared, after all this time.

* * *

The ride back to the house was quiet. Derek wasn't much of a talker and I rarely talked anyway. And while some people would have thought that the silence would have made the journey go slowly, it actually didn't. Before we knew it, we were pulling up outside the house.

Even though we were the last to the mall, we seemed to be the first back to the house, so Derek helped me take the bags inside. Once everything was in the room I was occupying – my comic books box in there as well and all the other boxes from my Jeep –, Derek told me to unpack them. And, like, actually unpack and hang them up. He didn't leave until I agreed and meant it.

I was still going by the time everyone else got back, but I liked the time alone.

I had gotten down to the last couple of bags when I noticed something though. In these last few, I found the superhero t-shirts, funny slogan t-shirts, checkered button down shirts and hoodies I had been looking at in that last store. Well that was..._unexpected_. I found a note folded on top of one of the shirts, the handwriting neat and clear, though a little rushed.

_Thought you might want these._

_Derek_

Well, that was... Yeah.

Shut up, I didn't know what to make of it! Would you?! I mean the guy actually bought me the things I was looking at in the store. Without me noticing. Without _Lydia _noticing. That was some skill he had.

* * *

Back downstairs, I found everyone sitting in the living room in their usual spots. As I walked through with one of my sketch pads, I couldn't resist the urge to hum the Walking Dead theme tune again.

What made it funnier was that no one knew why I was doing it. They probably didn't even recognise the music.

I sat down against the wall, sketch pad propped up on my lap as everyone else started talking, the TV on in the background on some radio station or whatever. I wasn't really listening. I was focusing too much on letting my pencil glide along the paper of the pad of paper in front of me.

That was, until _Bohemian Rhapsody_ by Queen started playing.

I started humming along to the song, like I usually did. The slow, sad, start of the song always calming. Since I wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me – I was doodling, guys – I didn't notice the amused looks I was getting from everyone.

While the song stayed calm, so did I. Gently swaying while I hummed along to the lyrics.

Until the whole thing changed. And who can resist doing the head banging?! No one in their right mind could. So it totally wasn't my fault!

I guess looking up was kind of a mistake, finding everyone staring at me...

"What?" I asked, hesitantly.

"You're humming," Derek stated. "And dancing to a song."

My eyes went wide slightly... Should have remembered they were here.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked, licking my lips to stop them drying out.

"No, we would very much like you to carry on." Peter piped up, a hint of sarcasm present. "We would very much like you to destroy the peace with your performance."

"Ass."

I sang along to the rest of the song in my head, making sure to keep myself in check. I think, all in all, I did pretty well with that.

* * *

Early hours of Monday morning made me wake up screaming, panting and sweating again. I had another dream but this time it was with dad. I groaned, flopping back down onto the bed, starting a little when the door fully opened.

"What's wrong? We heard you scream." Erica asked, looking around the room.

Then they all looked at me properly.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Jackson asked, irritated.

It was safe to say that I ran as fast as I could, grabbing my hoodie and sneakers before pushing past them and down the stairs.

While I ran, I managed to get the three items on before I was out of the door. But that didn't stop me from running.

I had been running for a few minutes when Derek caught up with me. He tried to get me to stop, tried to get me to listen. But I just kept running faster and faster, trying to get away. Even if it would just be for a short while.

"Just leave me alone!" I shouted over to him.

"No." he replied, calmly.

"Why not?!"

"Because I want to run too."

Well, if he wanted a run...

* * *

I ended up out running him. Yeah, that's right. I outran the Alpha of the Hale Pack.

_Suck on that!_

I was actually grinning by the time he caught up with me – aka, back outside the house.

"Your door wasn't shut properly." was all Derek said.

"What?" I asked.

"The doo, to your room. It wasn't shut properly. It's how we heard."

"Oh..."

Derek turned around to look at me as we made our way up the steps and towards the front door.

"You could have just said." he told me, before disappearing inside.

Following him, I was going to say how no, I really could have 'just said', but the words caught in my throat.

Sitting on the table, in the kitchen, were my sketch pads. Not all of them, just a few. But they were going through them.

"Were you up the whole night?" Peter asked, still flicking through one of the books."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I muttered, taking the sketch pads back.

Some were harder to get than the others – depended on who was holding then. Jackson seemed to be one of these resisters.

He kept twisting away, flipping through the pages until he stopped on one. One that I just caught a glimpse of.

"Hey, who's this?" he asked, turning the book around, grinning.

I didn't have to look to know who it was.

"My mom." I replied, able to take the book back easily, what with the slack grip.

I ran up the stairs with them, storing the books back into their box, before jogging back downstairs to jump in my Jeep and headed to the university.

* * *

It was later, after school, after I had avoided everyone all day, that some were doing homework in the living room. Lydia was helping Allison with the English we had gotten the week before that was due in next Wednesday, since the three of us didn't get any homework to do that day.

The task was on Romeo and Juliet. About the passage in Act two, scene two where Romeo is talking about Juliet – this one:

_**ROMEO**_

_He jests at scars that never felt a wound._

**(JULIET** appears in a window above**)**

_But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?_

_It is the east, and Juliet is the sun._

_Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,_

_Who is already sick and pale with grief,_

_That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she._

_Be not her maid since she is envious._

_Her vestal livery is but sick and green,_

_And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!_

_It is my lady. Oh, it is my love._

_Oh, that she knew she were!_

_She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?_

_Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—_

_I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks._

_Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,_

_Having some business, do entreat her eyes_

_To twinkle in their spheres till they return._

_What if her eyes were there, they in her head?_

_The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars_

_As daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heaven_

_Would through the airy region stream so bright_

_That birds would sing and think it were not night._

_See how she leans her cheek upon her hand._

_Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand_

_That I might touch that cheek!_

It was a good Passage, even better if you knew what it actually meant. Which was what Lydia was trying to explain to Allison.

While Lydia had the basic idea of what Romeo was saying, she wasn't giving the right translations.

"Actually, you're wrong." I said.

Everyone just stared at me, some looking a little worried. Lydia turned around slowly, flicking her over her shoulder.

"Excuse me?" she questioned.

"You're wrong." I repeated. "The translations."

"Oh, and you know what it actually is, do you?"

"Yeah, I do actually."

Lydia made a gesture for me to go ahead... So I did.

"It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut. But wait, what's that light in the window over there? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Rise up, beautiful sun, and kill the jealous moon. The moon is already sick and pale with grief because you, Juliet, her maid, are more beautiful than she." I recited, looking directly at the strawberry blonde. "Don't be her maid, because she is jealous. Virginity makes her look sick and green. Only fools hold on to their virginity. Let it go. Oh, there's my lady! Oh, it is my love. Oh, I wish she knew how much I love her. She's talking, but she's not saying anything. So what? Her eyes are saying something. I will answer them. I am too bold. She's not talking to me. Two of the brightest stars in the whole sky had to go away on business, and they're asking her eyes to twinkle in their places until they return. What if her eyes were in the sky and the stars were in her head?—The brightness of her cheeks would outshine the stars the way the sun outshines a lamp. If her eyes were in the night sky, they would shine so brightly through space that birds would start singing, thinking her light was the light of day. Look how she leans her hand on her cheek. Oh, I wish I was the glove on that hand so that I could touch that cheek."

They all just continued to stare at me, this time with wonder and amazement.

"How did you know that?" Allison breathed.

I shrugged.

"I know a lot of things." I replied, simply. "I can read and speak Greek and Archaic Latin. I get my assignments done so quickly because I know most of the information, as well as having _a lot _of free time... I just don't like bragging about it all."

It was then that I found out that Lydia could read and speak Archaic Latin too... She was the only other person I knew that could. It was then that they found out how much I knew, all of them questioning me on every topic they could think of...

It was really quite strange.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


	10. Why?

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 9**

**Stiles**

Tuesday – 1st October –, during one of my free periods, I was sitting in the library like I usually did. I was sitting in the usual corner with my sketch pad, just like always. But this time? I wasn't drawing the usual thing. Most of the time I would be drawing what I could see or something I remembered. Not this time. No. This time I was drawing the nine wolves and one human that I lived with. Yeah, not my usual source of inspiration, but I was going with it.

But it seemed to be one of the best ideas my messed up head had ever come up with. I had already gotten through portraits of Boyd, Erica, Allison, Scott, Lydia, Jackson, Danny and Isaac. I was working on Peter, Derek would be after him, and after that...well, I would have to get something bigger than my A4 sketch pad for that idea... Though I could make a rough idea of what I wanted it to look like. That was the most I could do for now, until I got the supplies to enlarge it anyway.

I was always left alone in the library, a fact that I liked mostly. I guess it was just a good thing I always sat in a section of it that no one used or ever needed. But then I had been here only just long enough to know where I could and couldn't go, so people could do what they needed to.

After a while, I started to notice that drawing Derek was...surprisingly easy. Now, sure, drawing came naturally to me...a trait I picked up from my mom. But I had never found it so easy to draw someone/something before...until now. It was like, as soon as I had put pencil to paper, that I just automatically drew the right facial structure, or eye shape, or nose shape, or mouth shape, or...or whatever else you could think of!

It was automatic. Like I was on autopilot.

I didn't think too much of it, too be honest. I just thought it was one of those things. You know, I thought that maybe most artists get this. Finding that one thing that they can draw, without fail, each and every time.

But I couldn't help feeling like that wasn't true. That there was something more to it than what I was thinking.

* * *

I was surprised with how much I actually drew that day. Never, in only one day, had I had the opportunity to just sit, relax and just...draw. It was great – for lack of a better word – to just be able to do one of the things I love without being interrupted – except for lessons. Even then, since I knew some of the things we were being taught and I saved the lesson work for when I was back at the house, I was drawing. I just wished I thought to have brought the coloured pencils, so I could finish the pictures off properly.

The coloured pencils that had been placed in my room, on the desk by the window. Without me knowing. With a note on top of them. The handwriting matching the note that came in one of the bags of clothes Lydia had objected to.

Meaning they were from Derek.

For the life of me, I couldn't come up with any idea as to why Derek would do this. No idea at all. But he had. He did. I supposed he was just trying to be...nice? Like, trying to help me settle in? Maybe?

I don't know.

No one ever did things to be nice. For me, anyway. It was weird... It was probably something most people were used to, but not me. And I don't think I would ever get used to it...

* * *

I had just arrived back at the house when it happened. I had pulled up outside, I only had to go a little further. When my car broke down.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I groaned, jumping out.

Now I wasn't great with cars. Not like most guys. I was more guitars and superheroes. But I knew how to fix minor little tiny things... So, going around to the front of my Jeep, I lifted up the hood, a cloud of smoke puffing out and hitting me right in the face.

And wasn't it just great coughing violently, from getting a face full of smoke? I waved my hand in front of my face, trying desperately to clear the air. Once the smoke had cleared, I looked under the hood, at the engine.

Well, this was going to be fun.

* * *

I had been trying to fix my Jeep for two and a half hours! _Two and a half hours!_ I was getting frustrated... So frustrated that I had actually punched a tree at some point.

I had taken off my shirt, the sweat that was forming making my t-shirt – an old one, luckily – stick to my back and stomach, irritating my skin and scars. While I hated anyone seeing my scars, I wouldn't be able to concentrate if I was uncomfortable. So, I chose to take my shirt off...

The cold air on my skin was amazing! Cooling me down as I leant over the heat of the engine. I could feel the pools of liquid running down my neck and back, leaving tracks that would only be visible to those with awesome super sight – *cough*werewolves*cough*.

It was five minutes after I had actually taken my shirt off that I felt someone watching me. It was strange how I could always feel someone's eyes burning holes into me whenever I wasn't looking – even some when I was. It was an uncomfortable feeling, almost rivalling that of sweat soaked clothes catching on my scars. I had managed to catch their reflection in the windshield of my car, seeing them standing on the porch of the house.

_Derek._

He was just standing there, watching me. Honestly, I swear werewolves had no boundaries. Always sniffing you, getting in your space – like pushing you against your car, and no I was not letting that go! I was always fine when it was my mom that did all that stuff that annoyed me now, but that was then. Back when I was ok with people touching me, hugging me. When I was ok with people watching me and getting in my space. Back when I was happy.

I sighed a little, half frustration half sad. Pushing away from the engine, I slammed the hood back down, turning so I could lean against the front of it, staring right back at Derek.

"Enjoying the show?" I asked, irritated, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked, nodding towards me car.

I sighed, getting increasingly annoyed. He rarely ever answered my questions...

"Oh, nothing. I just thought I'd mess around with the engine of my perfectly working Jeep." I replied, sarcastically.

Derek growled quietly, trying to cover it up. Really, these guys shouldn't try to act like they're human. I've had years of practise, this was something they were only doing with me now. It was obvious to spot that they were trying way too hard, the idiots.

"Broke down as soon as I pulled in." I sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I love my Jeep, I really do. But she pisses me off sometimes."

"Have you tried..." Derek started.

"I have tried everything I know how to do and then some. If I do anymore, I will break her. And I kind of need her."

Derek huffed, jumping off of the porch, completely ignoring the steps, and walking over to stand in front of me.

"I'll get it fixed for you." he told me, nodding once. "I can drive you to and from the university like I do for Isaac, Erica and Boyd until it's ready."

I looked right at him for a moment, right in his eyes. I licked my lips, trying to put some moisture back into the dry things, shuffling slightly as I did.

"Why?" I asked, quietly.

"What is it with you and always asking that?" Derek growled, stepping closer. "Can't you just say thanks like a normal person instead of questioning everything?!"

"You don't understand."

"Then maybe you should explain!"

"_No_!"

"And why not?!"

"Because I want to forget it all! Ever wondered why I never really brought up how you all suddenly knew things from my criminal record? Or how you knew about my scars? Ever thought that maybe I'm not good with trusting people, because everyone always stabs you in the back?! No, you didn't! So, next time, buddy, think before you fucking speak! Think of _why _people might do certain things, ask certain things!"

I was shaking from how frustrated I was, trying so hard to hold back the urge to wolf/fox out and run or just punch Derek in his stupidly handsome face!

The stupidly handsome face that was currently tilted and frowning, ever so slightly.

Sighing, I hit my open palm against the trunk of a nearby tree, before falling to the ground to lean against it. I dragged my knees up to my chest, resting my elbows on them and burying my head in my hands.

"To answer your question," Derek said. "Because I want to. I want to help. We all want to help. That's never happened with any of us before, especially me. So, just let us."

And with that, he just turned around and walked back into the house.

* * *

The next day – Wednesday, 2nd October – after school, the wolves and Allison were training. I was sitting in the corner, with a sketch book – seriously, these guys didn't even know how helpful they were with this! It was just a normal training session thing, like every day.

Or it was until Chris Argent walked in.

Everyone froze, everyone but Allison staring at the guy. Chris walked right up to Derek, who was fighting against Peter at the time, stopping in front of him with a small bit of distance between them. I could see how tense all of them were, especially Derek. I noticed how Allison was holding her breath, probably wanting to intervene, but not at the same time. It was her Pack and her dad, after all.

But then Argent did something none of them – not even I – expected.

"Truce?" Chris asked, extending a hand.

Derek nodded, shaking the man's hand, saying about how they would need to hammer out the details of this 'truce', so neither group overstepped their boundaries. I didn't hear much, zoning out after Derek had agreed, going back to my drawings. But Allison, I noticed, looked so much happier...

"What made you change your mind?" I heard her asked, a light laugh evident in her voice.

"Well, I need to watch who make enemies with." Chris replied, before turning to look at me. "Don't I?"

Wait... So this was all happening because of what I said to him on Sunday. Me? Someone actually listened to _me_?! And it helped?! Well...that was new...

* * *

Chris stayed for the rest of training, mainly watching Allison use her hunter skills and giving her tips when needed. I was glad that I could make one father realise that he hadn't lost everything yet.

I pretty much stayed in the same spot for the whole thing, just sitting there, drawing. It was a brilliant thing to do while everyone else was so busy concentrating on training. Well, almost everyone.

"Stiles, will you be taking part at all?" Peter called over from the mats. "Or are you going to just sit and watch?"

"Are you really that desperate to be beaten again old man?" I smirked, looking over the pad.

Now Peter... Peter I...well, I wouldn't say liked, but there was something about the guy. His sarcasm and wit and sass made him easy to communicate with, since we both spoke in such similar ways. He never tried to hard to be nice, he just stayed himself.

"Were you not told to never talk back to your elders?" Peter queried, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I was told." I nodded, jumping up and walking over towards the mats. "I just stopped listening _a long _time ago."

I found it very funny that I managed to floor Peter in only a handful of seconds. He growled before bouncing back up, launching himself at me again.

This repeated many, _many _times.

* * *

"_Is he actually human?" _I heard Chris whisper to Derek, a little while later when I was still up against Peter. "_Or is he a werewolf too?"_

"_I'm not sure." _Derek whispered back. _"I can't catch a scent..."_

During that brief moment of not paying attention to the fight, I didn't notice one thing. Well, I didn't notice it until someone jumped me from behind.

I pretty much screamed, throwing them to the ground, before backing myself into the corner I had been in to begin with.

As I sat there, panting heavily and shaking, I saw Jackson sit up, groaning and clutching the back of his head. My eyes were wide and I couldn't control the tremors running through my arms, not being able to stop and just sit still.

Before anyone could say or do anything, I ran for it – grabbing my sketch pad and legging it out of the training room, towards the room I was using.

* * *

I woke up early hours of Thursday morning, screaming... This happened every night ever since Chase made me have that first fucking flashback, but this one was the worst so far.

I went out for a run like I normally did, but this time I got back after only two hours. So I resolved to clean the place. I mean, come on, the place was kind of filthy.

I managed to find a cloth and cleaning products, working my way around the lower level of the house, scrubbing down the hallways, kitchen and living room.

The last thing I had remembered was sitting on the couch o clean the coffee table, before being shaken awake, gently, by Derek. He looked tired, just like I felt, and I looked around to see that I had actually fallen asleep on the couch, cloth in hand still...

"Nightmare?" Derek asked.

Sighing, I nodded, sitting up and leaning back into the couch cushions. Derek sat down next to me, not too close but not to far, staring at the table for a moment before returning his attention to me.

"What's going on, Stiles?" Derek asked.

Looking at Derek, something inside of me wanted to tell him the truth.

But I couldn't. He was pretty much a stranger to me! I had been living in that house for all of twelve days; they were all strangers to me! So I did the only other thing I could think of. Lie. I didn't even care if he would know it wasn't the truth.

"My mom died five days after my birthday. Any friends I had turned against me. My dad became an alcoholic." I explained, quietly, keeping in some things that were actually true. "Everyone I knew and cared about had turned their backs on me and anyone I tried to reach out to did the same. So, I started to cut myself. I didn't want to do it on my arms, so I stuck to my chest, stomach and back. It was a pain reaching that far, but I needed to."

I took a deep breath before carrying on.

"People touching me just reminds me of the people I thought were my friends... They had no problems with showing me how they felt with their fists, and I ended up in hospital for days." I continued. "That's what I have nightmare about. That's why I find it hard to trust people. That's why I always question why you or any of the others are nice to me. That's why I have the scars."

And yes, I know. It was all bull shit – apart from a few things. And I knew Derek knew that. But that was the only explanation he was getting. Derek, seeming to realise this, sighed and nodded, as if agreeing that he would buy it for now, just go along with it until I actually told him the truth.

"What about the tattoos?" he asked. "What's the deal with them?"

"To cover the scars." I replied. "Well, for two of them, there was a reason... For the others, I thought they were cool as well as a way to try covering the scars."

"Which ones have the reasons?"

"The triskelion on my back and the name Genim written across my lower back."

"What are the reasons?"

"My mom. The others are runes I thought looked cool. Can't use them, like you can in books though."

That was true. The runes I had were not magical, just purely decorational.

"I have a tattoo of a triskelion too, on my back." Derek said. "Got it when I was nineteen, living in New York."

"Got mine back in Dallas, I was sixteen." I admitted. "They guy I went to didn't ask for ID and didn't seem to care about my age. That was fine by me."

I could see that Derek wanted to say something about that, but he held his tongue, nodding. He asked me what the different runes meant, so I told him. He asked me who Genim was – though I fully suspected he already knew – so I told him. He asked for the reasons I got my real first name and a triskelion tattooed, so I told him.

I hadn't realised how long we had been talking until the sun came up.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks so much everyone XD**_


	11. I Know

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Jason, Zane, Chase**.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 10**

**Stiles**

Friday, October 4th, just another day at school. Just another day of stares and rumours and Chase giving me dirty looks. My day at school never really changed, to be honest. Not that I ever expected it to. I mean, I think it would be quite strange if people just suddenly stopped avoiding me and stuff... I would wonder what big bad nasty got them to make them treat me like a person.

Yeah, that would be the day...

I found it strange how I actually looked forward to getting back to the house each and every day, just to get away from the assholes in that school and just be with people that seemed to treat me like...well; the wolves treat me almost like I matter. It was a nice feeling...

Guess that was why, instead of hiding out in the room I had, I ended up dumping my stuff onto the floor next to me in the living room, with the others, leaning against the couch. I could smell the shock yet happy surprise from everyone in the room – even Jackson...fucking secret softie, I'm telling you.

"So, what we watching?" I asked, looking around at everyone, gesturing towards the playing TV.

"We haven't decided." Derek replied, slowly, before holding the remote out to me. "You choose."

And, what now?

"M-Me?" I stuttered, slightly, blinking in shock.

"Yes, you." Derek sighed.

Hesitantly, I took the piece of plastic. I didn't pick up on any objection from the rest of them, so I took that as my go ahead. Flicking through the channels, I bit my lip, trying to find something worth watching.

And then I saw it.

And I couldn't _not _put it on!

I mean, it was the most brilliant thing to put on at this moment in time!

So I did.

And _man, _were their faces a picture! I couldn't help but laugh at the look of recognition

"Stiles, why do always hum the theme tune to _The Walking Dead_?" Isaac asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

I turned to face him slowly, eyes a little wide at the fact that none of them seemed to have caught on yet.

"Oh, come on! Isn't it obvious?!" I yelled, pointing towards Peter. "Peter is a zombie werewolf, from the dead! Kind of the reasoning behind humming _Thriller _and all!"

All of them just spluttered, someone trying to come up with something to say.

"_God_, that felt good!" I laughed. "You guys have no idea how long I've been keeping that to myself, seriously."

"How long have you known we were...?" Jackson started, waving his hand around to finish his sentence.

"All werewolves, apart from Allison who's a hunter? Well, I knew the nine of you were werewolves when I first saw you, and I knew Allison was a hunter during that first training session I watched. Though I definitely knew she was when Mr Argent turned up of Wednesday."

"How did you know?" Derek demanded.

"I can identify werewolves easily, the same as many other supernatural creatures. As long I've met at least one. Don't ask how, I just can."

Not technically a lie. I _could_ identify _any_ supernatural creature as long as I had met one, so then I knew what scent to look for. They just didn't know how I could tell. Which they really didn't need to know.

Peter throughout the majority of this with an eyebrow raised, looking amused yet bored. As always. When we made eye contact, he nodded slightly, as if impressed by, either, my awesomeness of coming up with an entertaining use of his zombie-ness, or because I knew they were werewolves, or maybe both. Either way, he seemed kind of impressed.

"You guys all suck at hiding it." I told them, still chuckling. "Like, _really_ bad. You need to practice."

Allison just laughed with me, but she was desperately trying to hide her giggles. It was quite entertaining watching her go bright red, while the wolves just spluttered and gaped.

I turned to Derek, slowly, seeing him frown with his head tilted to the side. He looked like a confused puppy – heh, puppy!

"And you, Mr Big Bad," I grinned. "You flashed those red beauties at me, when you shoved me against my Jeep, when you thought I tagged Danny's car. Yeah, still pissed about that, by the way, it's not nice!"

Derek's eyes widened slightly. Oh, this was just getting better and better!

"No comments?" I asked, looking around? "None of you? Ok, I'll make dinner."

Jumping up, I made my way to the kitchen, cackling as soon as I stepped into the room, having to lean heavily on the counter to keep myself upright.

This was all so much _more_ fun than I first thought!

* * *

The next day – Saturday, October 5th – the others decided that going out for lunch sounded great... They seemed to think that we wouldn't have any problems getting in anywhere, even with me tagging along... It was like they had forgotten what people really thought of me... But they ended up getting me into Derek's Camaro – since my Jeep was still being fixed – and we had started the thirty three minute drive to Red Lion Family Pizzeria, in Magalia.

Apparently it was quite popular with Beacon Hills' residents, some people trying to get there as often as possible. If things hadn't been looking bad for me before, then they definitely were now... Now I was going to have to deal with a lot more people than I first though whispering about me.

"How do you get a whole town knowing about you, anyway?" Boyd asked from the back of Derek's car – I was pushed into the front – around halfway through the drive.

Though Boyd mainly stayed quiet, he did have those moments when he would give us the pleasure of hearing him talk. He seemed...ok. The only time he ever talked about me like the rest of the town was that day I heard the whole Pack discussing me while I was under the bleachers.

"I overheard some of the whispers at the school. A lot of them actually." I told them – Derek, Boyd, Erica – quietly, staring down at my hands in my lap. "One person... One person had overheard teachers talking about me. I'm guessing that word was spread round quickly, you know? People telling family and friends. It wouldn't be too had to know who the new guy in a small town was..."

I had thought, as well, that it was strange how everyone knew about me... But when I did hear that girl mention overhearing the teachers, I had it all pieced together. If the teachers were talking about me, then they would tell their family and friends, and they would spread it around until the whole town knew.

It was a sad day when the people in education lowered themselves to the level of gossiping teenage girls. But there was nothing I could do about it. Everyone decided to believe in the rumours, or blow what they hear _way _out of proportion, or not even think about what the reasoning behind what they found out about me could be.

But why would they? To them I was just a bad nineteen year old kid that's going to corrupt the town.

The three of them didn't say anything more on that subject. In fact, they didn't really say anything for the rest of the drive.

* * *

We had a lot of trouble initially getting into the restaurant, the staff not wanting to let me in. I had said that I would just go for a walk outside and I would meet them back at the cars later.

They were having none of it.

Derek, especially, had kicked up a fuss, saying how 'pathetic' everyone was by believing such stupid rumours or judging people on what they hear.

I appreciated that a lot. Not a lot of people would do that. Especially for me. And then, one by one, everyone else started getting involved.

"Seriously, how shallow do you have to be?!" Lydia screeched.

"Do you want to lose customers?" Jackson demanded. "If so, you're going about it the right way."

"Yeah, there are _loads _of people we could persuade not to come here." Isaac glared.

"I'm sure we could find a few rats and set them free in here." Peter suggested easily. "I'm sure your Health Inspector would love to see that."

After that, the guy had cut the crap and let us in. We had pushed three tables together to seat the eleven of us together.

But it didn't stop people from whispering about me.

The wolves – now that they knew that I knew they were wolves – didn't hide their cringes or sour expressions when they heard what people were saying. I, on the other hand, fought to stay composed, making it seem like I had no idea what was being said.

It was easier said than done.

* * *

Apart from the whispers that I had started to block out, the meal itself was actually quite nice. I got to know everyone a bit more, hear a few stories from things they had encountered. Learnt that Jackson had been a Kanima before he was a werewolf. I was particularly interested in that...but I could see that the blonde didn't really want to talk about that, so I immediately switched the topic.

I had caught sight of his grateful little smile.

We were, about, halfway through lunch when I heard an ear-splitting scream come from my left. Turning towards the sound I saw a little boy, no older than four, balling his eyes out, looking absolutely terrified.

And no one was helping him.

Without thinking, I was up and out of my seat, walking over to the kid. I crouched down once I reached him, so I was his height, conscious of the people staring at me. But I paid no attention to them.

"Hey, what's up, kiddo?" I asked, softly, keeping a small distance between us.

"Can't. Find. Momma." the kid cried, his words coming out choked.

It was heartbreaking.

"What's your name, buddy?" I asked, quietly.

"J-Jason." he whimpered.

"Well, Jason, I'm Stiles. Just hold on, ok, and I'll help you find you momma. Sound good."

Jason nodded, starting to quiet down. I grabbed a napkin from one of the tables, giving it to dry his face with. Now, I just had to find his mom...

"_Jason! Get away from him!" _a shrill voice shouted.

Looking behind the kid, I saw a woman walking towards us. She looked relieved, yet furious, a strange mix that I never thought I would see on a person.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she demanded, yelling at me. "How _dare _you go near my baby!"

"Look, I was just trying to help." I said, calmly, even though I was getting just a _little _pissed – I was helping after all.

"Help. _Help! _He doesn't need your help!"

"He was lost."

"Don't make excuses! Get away, go on! Shoo!"

"Ok, sorry."

Before I stood up to go back to the others, I reached into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. I had five dollars left, all in one dollar notes. Taking one out, I passed it to the kid, telling him that he could use it to play a game if he wanted. Jason took it, opening his mouth to say thanks, when his mom ripped it out of his hand and threw it at me.

"We don't need your drug money!" she screamed, before turning to go towards the counter to pay.

I blinked a little as I watched her move towards the counter, before turning to look at Jason. Being as young as he was, he had no idea what was going on. Only that 'momma' seemed to hate the guy that was being nice and trying to help – unlike every other fucker in around.

I placed the dollar that was in my hand on the floor and, discreetly, slid it over to Jason, stopping it in front of his feet, winking subtly. Grinning, he picked it up, mouthing '_thanks Stiles_', before running off towards his mom.

Smiling myself, I stood up, making my way back over towards the table, not really caring how the ten of them were staring in a mix of confusion and wonder.

* * *

"_Wow_, the boy _does _have social skills." Peter smirked, as we all made our ways back to the cars. "And here I was thinking that you would remain forever quiet."

I rolled my eyes at the older wolf on my left, turning to him to just give him that look. You know, the look you get when you just want to punch someone, even though you kind of think they're alright. No? Only me? Huh... Well, ok then.

"Well, wasn't always so quiet." I told him.

"Oh?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I used to talk for hours, laugh nonstop, always causing trouble... Maybe one day you can see that side of me, maybe one day that Stiles will come back."

"Oh, I hope not. I rather enjoy the silence."

The grin on the older Hale's face told me otherwise, hinting that he would probably enjoy the entertainment. Enjoy someone to have on his side, to mess with everyone.

I smiled slightly, huffing a small laugh, shoving the wolf a little. I just sidestepped when he tried to do it back to me, causing him to go off balance and pretty much fall into a nearby bush.

It was safe to say that I legged it to Derek's car after that...

* * *

Around an hour later, back at the house, I was getting fidgety.

I didn't know what was causing it, but I was getting fidgety, and I didn't like it. Usually, there would be a reason, and I would always try to put a stop to whatever it was that was causing this discomfort. But there was nothing this time. Absolutely nothing.

So I got up, walked out of the living room and walked out of the house.

When I was a kid, I used to love going on walks with my mom. It was what we always used to do when it was just the two of us in the house and I was getting restless.

I always had this feeling that maybe mom knew I was gay, even when I was so young. She always knew every little thing about me, even if I hadn't told her. I mean, it could have been her wolfy cross foxy powers or just her mother powers, but somehow she knew. She always knew. So she had to know about me being gay, right?

"Stiles!" a voice called after me. "Where're you going?"

Turning round, I found Scott running to catch up with me, frowning slightly. I guess they all thought I was going to run at some point, run from everyone in the town so I could get away from all the comments made. Or something like that.

"Just going for a walk." I shrugged. "I can't sit still any longer."

"I'll join you." he grinned. "It's always better to have some company."

_Damn that puppy face!_

I will say though, I have no idea how letting _just _Scott join me on this walk turned into letting _the whole _Pack join me... Never will I understand how that happened.

* * *

The next day, during training in the morning, Chris Argent joined us. He, Derek and Peter had worked out the terms of their truce and everyone seemed..._happier. _As if a great weight had been lifted.

Allison definitely seemed more at ease, and had actually thanked me for what I had said to her dad. I just said that I was happy I could help, though I didn't really _do _anything. She just called ball-shit, before hugging me quickly and going back to practicing with her crossbow with her dad.

I was using one of the punching bags in the corner, staring at the one spot, while I tried to punch it to death. It was quite easy. All I had to do was pretend that dad, Zane or Chase was there, defenceless, instead of the punching bag. I hadn't bothered with gloves, only the strips of bandages around my knuckles.

I had gone for one of the looser fitting, vest tops that Lydia had approved of for this, since it wouldn't cling to me all the time and wouldn't irritate my skin or scars.

I hadn't been at the punch bag for long when My Argent came up to me. He didn't touch me like most people would, probably remembering what happened when Jackson did that last time he was here. Instead, he stood there until I saw him.

I looked up, tilting my head to the right in question, holding the punch bag steady.

"Ever used a crossbow?" he had asked, smoothly.

I shook my head, shuffling slightly. Mr Argent – who had insisted we all call Chris – smiled a little. You know, that kind of friendly smile that your friend's dad would give you – in a non-perverted kind of way – making you feel welcome. The kind of smile that parents or adults _should _give you.

"Want to learn?" he queried.

I nodded slowly, flinching slightly when he placed his hand on my shoulder. I had seen it coming, so that stopped me from flipping him, but it never stopped me from flinching away from people's touches. He didn't seem to mind though, just steered me over to where he and Allison had put themselves.

He gave me a run down on what part was what, how to load the arrow properly, how to stand, how to hold it properly. He gave me a demonstration on each, getting me to do it myself, correcting anything I was doing wrong, before demonstrating it all together and shooting the target they had set up. Chris had turned to my when he had finished, getting me to give it a try.

So I got into the position, loaded the crossbow, held it up and pulled the trigger. Now it wasn't perfect, but I still hit the target and it was damn fucking well for my first go! Even Chris and Allison told me that!

* * *

It was a little later on, when everyone was outside, that I was walking up to my room.

_Whoa, did I just say _my _room?!_

It was on the top floor of the house, along with Derek's and Peter's , one of the only spare rooms in the house, so I walked past pretty much everyone else's room. I had to walk past Peter's room as well, to get to mine, since mine was at the end of the hall.

As I walked past this time, I saw that Peter's bedroom door was open and, in the corner, I saw a red acoustic guitar. I don't know what compelled me to, but I slipped inside his room, leaving the door open, grabbing the guitar and sitting on the floor with it. I grabbed a pick that was on the desk next to me, strumming it across all the strings.

_Perfectly in tune!_

I just couldn't help myself. So, I placed the capo that was clipped on the end of the guitar onto the first fret, and started playing – and singing – the mash up of _Beautiful Girl_ and _Stand By Me_ by Boyce Avenue.

"_You're way too beautiful girl  
That's why it'll never work  
You'll have me suicidal, suicidal  
When you say it's over_"

I closed my eyes as I started to sing, the chord pattern ingrained in my muscle memory, so I knew I would go to the right stings and chord shape.

"_See it's very divine,  
One of a kind  
But you mush up my mind  
You walk to get declined  
Oh Lord...  
My baby is driving me crazy_"

The thing was, I did actually write my own songs. Mainly about my mom.

"_You're way too beautiful girl  
That's why it'll never work  
You'll have me suicidal, suicidal  
When you say it's over  
Damn all these beautiful girls  
They only wanna do your dirt  
They'll have you suicidal, suicidal  
When they say it's over_"

I wondered if my mom would like this song. If she would have sung this with me, and sang the harmonies that I had worked out for it – yes, I could work out harmonies...

"_They say we're too young  
To get ourselves sprung  
Oh we didn't care  
We made it very clear  
And they also said  
That we couldn't last together_"

I loved the extended notes in this song, and how they were sang in the song. I always loved the way some lyrics were changed when sang.

"_See it's very divine  
One of a kind  
But you mush up my mind  
You walk to get declined  
Oh Lord...  
My baby is driving me crazy_  
_You're way too beautiful girl  
That's why it'll never work  
You'll have me suicidal, suicidal  
When you say it's over  
Damn all these beautiful girls  
They only wanna do your dirt  
They'll have you suicidal, suicidal  
When they say it's over_"

The chorus of songs was always the catchiest bit. Well, that was the whole point, but still. I always loved the chorus'. I loved the change between _Beautiful Girls _and _Stand By Me_. I don't know why, I just loved it.

"_When the night, has come  
And the land is dark  
And the moon  
Is the only light we'll see  
No I won't, be afraid  
No I won't shed a tear  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me._"

* * *

**Derek**

I was leaning against one of the pillars on the porch, watching my Pack. After everything that happened, after the fire...I never thought I would be able to have this again. A family. A home. People I would do anything for. I never thought that I would have someone if my family with my again... But then Peter got back to his old self, being the uncle I remember from when I was only a child.

It was nice. Even if my whole back, aside from Peter, were teenagers. Their ages always made me more protective over them, which was always good for an Alpha – wanting to protect the Betas, especially when they're still pups. Which was what they were. Pups.

Peter had only been gone a few minutes when I heard my estranged uncle calling my name, quietly, telling me to slip away and '_come see this_'.

Raising and eyebrow, I turned towards the house, walking through the door, before running up both flights of stairs, until I was standing next to him. Peter gestured for me to stay quiet, as well as pointing towards his room.

Looking inside, I saw Stiles with Peter's old guitar, sitting on the floor, moving the capo from the first fret to the third, before playing and singing.

"_Hey there little red riding hood  
You sure are looking good  
You're everything a big bad wolf could want_"

The thing was, I knew this song. He was doing a different version of it though, the version by that Amanda girl – the one from _Mama Mia _(Lydia made us watch it).

"_Little red riding hood  
I don't think little big girls should  
Go walking in these spooky old woods alone_"

He was, surprisingly, really good, keeping his eyes closed as he went along.

"_What big eyes you have  
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad  
Just to see that you don't get chased  
I think I oughta walk with you for a ways_"

I couldn't help but think to myself how funny it was that he was actually singing this song whilst wearing his red hoodie... With two wolves watching him.

"_What full lips you have  
They're sure to lure someone bad  
So until you get to Grandma's place  
I think you oughta walk with me and be safe_"

Stiles had an amazing voice. It was one of those voices that you would sit there and happily listen to all day long if you could – I would deny saying this!

"_Gonna keep my sheep suit on  
'Til I'm sure that you've been shown  
That I can be trusted walking with you alone_  
_Little red riding hood  
I'd like to hold you if I could  
But you might think I'm a big bad wolf so I won't_"

I remember listening to the original with Laura and Cora when we were kids. Mom put it on for a laugh one day, and I couldn't help but love it...

"_What a big heart I have  
The better to love you with  
Little red riding hood  
Even bad wolves can be good_  
_I try to keep satisfied  
Just to walk close by your side  
Maybe you'll see things my way  
'Fore we get to Grandma's place_"

I think I actually preferred Stiles' version. Strange as it sounded, the kid had made it better, adding little twiddly bits here and there to make it his own.

"_Little red riding hood  
You sure are looking good  
You're everything a big bad wolf could want_  
_Little red riding hood  
I don't think little big girls should  
Go walking in these spooky old woods alone_"

His use of dynamics in this was something I would never have expected from him, since he was always so quiet around us. But then he did think we were all outside...

"_What big eyes you have  
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad  
Just to see that you don't get chased  
I think I oughta walk with you for a ways_  
_What full lips you have  
They're sure to lure someone bad  
So until you get to Grandma's place  
I think you oughta walk with me and be safe_"

Stiles didn't break out of his trance until the end of the song, where he just smiled, a little sadly. He sighed, looking up, freezing when he saw me and Peter standing in the doorway. Before we could say anything, Stiles was standing up, putting the guitar back and apologising with a hundred words per second.

He didn't stop until Peter stepped forward, but then he just backed up into the wall.

"Stiles, it's fine." Peter told the boy, calmly, heart beat staying steady the whole time. "You can come in and play it whenever you like."

"Look, I'm sor... Wait, what?!" he breathed, looking as if Peter had grown another head.

"Whenever you feel like playing it, just come in and play it."

"Seriously?!"

"Yes. You are really very good."

And with that, Peter grabbed his book – what he was getting anyway – before disappearing downstairs.

"He is telling the truth." I told Stiles, seeing the complete disbelief on his face. "And you _really_ are good."

I walked downstairs, after that, only to run into Peter by the front door.

My uncle was on the phone to..._someone_, ordering one thing or another. I never really paid attention to any calls he made. But I was interested once he disconnected the call and turned to me.

"So, I think that we should get the boy a guitar." he told me, casually.

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Yes. It could be a...Christmas present, from the both of us. I called the store where I bought mine and they said we can go browse at anytime."

I thought it over for a moment, even though I already knew my answer, and nodding before I went outside again.

I didn't know what it was, but there was something about Stiles that made him different from everyone else. That something extra that made him even more unique.

I just couldn't put my finger on it...

* * *

**Stiles**

_I was in a basement, chained to a wall. Blood decorated the walls and floor, even the ceiling a little bit. I was breathing heavily, trying to push aside the pain that came with each breath, the pain that came from my back and ribs and chest. The marks were deeper this time, deeper than ever before. The bruises darker. Burns blacker._

_Dad stood above me, yelling profanities and insults, but I could barely hear him. I was numb from the pain, too numb to care about what he was saying._

_I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I lay there on the ground, watching my father's face as he screamed. I could feel the hot slide of tears run down from my eyes to my hairline, the warm trickle of blood from my skin drip onto the floor. _

_My hands lay lifelessly as I watched him pull his leg back, only to snap it forward with a swift kick to my ribs. He didn't stop, not like he usually did. He just kept kicking and kicking and kicking and kicking._

_But soon that wasn't enough for him. He grabbed his lighter, dropping the flame onto me, leaving it there to burn through my skin. _

_I couldn't hear myself scream, I couldn't hear anything. But I could see that I was slowly fading, slowly loosing the will to live, slowly being taken over by the blackness that came with letting go of life altogether._

And then I was waking up in bed, only panting and sweating this time, not screaming. I stood up, walking towards my door to go downstairs, when I heard Derek's door do the same.

Looking up, I saw Derek step out, looking down the hall at me. I thought he was just going to turn around or tell me to get back in the room. Instead he closed his door and gestured for me to follow him. So, closing the door to my room, I did just that.

We ended up in the kitchen, with Derek making decaf coffee. I wasn't a big fan of decaf, but it wasn't the best thing to drink so early on a Monday morning.

Derek didn't make me talk. For a long time we just sat there, on the sofa – we moved after the coffee was made – in companionable silence.

We stayed quiet for a while, until Derek asked how long I had had nightmares for.

"Since I was ten, when my mom died." I sighed. "They stopped when I was thirteen, but came back when everything started going to shit and I started to give myself these scars."

Yup, that's right; I was still keeping up with the bull-shit story!

"But you already knew about my mom." I muttered. "How did you find out this stuff about me, anyway?"

"Danny's a hacker." Derek told me. "I asked him to look you up, after a group of them found out you real name. I was curious, and I didn't think you would willingly tell me."

I sighed, quietly, knowing he was right. I would never have willingly given up any information they may have discovered.

"Doesn't make it right." I said. "What did you find anyway?"

"We know you're from Dallas, we know your birthday, the names of your parents. We know how your mother died, that your father is the Sheriff. We know why you went to the hospital so much and why you were in and out of jail."

"Ok... Please, just never ask me to explain any of that."

"Ok."

"I will say I was set up with the drugs and vandalism, the assault was me defending myself, and the theft wasn't even me, I was just standing outside when someone I knew did it."

"Alright."

"I'm not bad..."

"I know."

* * *

_**Please, please review XD **_

_**Thanks XD**_


	12. Pack

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase**.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 11**

**Stiles**

After school on Monday – 7th October – back at the house – I couldn't call it home – I was upstairs in the room I had been using, not realising that the door was wide open as I changed my shirt

I did that sometimes. If I wanted to just chill, I would always get my pyjamas on. But I usually remembered to close the door. Apparently not this time.

I was standing at the end of the bed, when I had just placed the t-shirt I had been wearing that day and picked up the one I usually wore to bed. It was the Batman one that Derek had sneakily bought for me... When Lydia had first seen them all, she had gone into a huff, demanding how I managed to do it.

It was rather funny...

So, because I thought I had closed the door, once I had the t-shit on, I hadn't expected to turn around and find Erica leaning against the doorframe.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders, before moving past her and walking down the stairs, into the living room. I sat down in my usual spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch. But Erica, instead of sitting next to Boyd on the couch they usually occupied.

No. Instead she stood over me, hands on hips, eyebrow raised.

"What?" I ended up saying...eventually.

"Your tattoos..." she started.

"No."

She stopped, glaring slightly, as she moved to cross her arms across her chest. I turned away slightly. I didn't like talking about my tattoos much; it always led to the question of why they were over the top of my scars...

"Oh, come on, just..." Erica tried again.

"No." I told her. "Not talking about them."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so!"

Erica huffed slightly, as she stomped over to the couch and sat next to Boyd, glaring and nothing.

I don't think we had even been quite for a minute when someone spoke up.

"You won't even showing us and telling us what they mean?" Allison asked in that sweet way she always does.

That was not fair. Using such a nice, kind way to speak to the Stiles... That was all kinds of unfair! Even if only Isaac knew why...

Speaking of, I could see the little traitor grinning... He knew I wouldn't be able to resist! He knew that even when he started with those stupid puppy eyes! How these idiots realised that puppy eyes work on me, I would never know!

Even Scott joined Isaac with the puppy eyes!

I think there should have been a rule against ganging up on the new guy...

Sighing, knowing there was no way to get out of this; I stood up, pulling off the t-shirt before laying it on the ground. Once I was standing up straight again, I worked my way round.

"I have runes, _not_ ones that I can use, dotted everywhere." I started. "There's: strength, ice, protection, water, air, sun, Earth, fire, power, defence warrior, journey, freedom, joy, hail, need, day or dawn, ancestral property... I can't remember the rest. I liked the look of them...no really big reveal about why I got them apart from that."

Turning to the right, I folded down the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing, allowing them all to see the whole of the tattoo on my hip. It was just simply '_Genim_' in black with red wolf and purple fox prints. That tattoo pretty much summed me up really...

"My mom came up with my name." I told them. "I decided to go by Stiles when I was, like, three, because the other kids would always take the piss. Everyone else started to call me Stiles, apart from my mom. She was the only one who just called me Genim. I can't let that part of me go... So I got it tattooed."

"What's with the animal prints?" Jackson asked, sitting forward a little.

"Mom loved the foxes and wolves."

Which wasn't a lie! Mom really did love those two animals the most, always admiring the simplicity of their lives, not having to hide anything in their world. There were pictures that she painted dedicated to just wolves and foxes, so many of them having something to do with those two creatures.

"The last one is the triskelion." I sighed, turning around so they could see the tattoo on the centre of my back. "There are loads of meanings for it – the active symbolism of it was: action, cycles, progress, revolution, competition and moving forward. The meanings of the three extensions – spirals, basically – were: spirit, mind, body; Father, Son, Holy Ghost; mother, father, child; past, present, future; power, intellect, love; creator, destroyer, sustainer; creation, preservation, destruction, the three worlds represented by it were: The Otherworld, where spirits, gods and goddesses live, the Mortal World, where you and I live along with plants and animals, the Celestial World, where unseen energies live and move about – like the forces of sun, moon, wind and water –, the lunar symbols associated with it were: mystery, feminine, intuition, subtleness, subconscious, spirituality, illumination and hidden desire. Overall really, the meanings of the triskelion were: personal growth, human development and spiritual expansion."

Hey, I had already said I knew a lot... It wasn't my fault that it still surprised all of them when I came out with all this information about – sometimes – stupid topics.

"My mom and I both liked it." I continued. "I saw it when I was, like, five and since then I've always wanted it done as a tattoo. It was the first tattoo I got, the next one being my name... I had only just turned sixteen when I got it done...the guy didn't ask for an ID, so I didn't give him one. I only got the triskelion and my name because I _wanted _them... The rest were just convenient."

And that was the most I had said to any of the in one go... _Ever_! And they all realised that. They all nodded, slowly, still amazed at the amount I had actually said, at the amount of information I had just given up for them.

While they all stared and gaped like fish, I reached down to grab the Batman t-shirt and but it on again, before slumping back down into my original position.

"You got them at sixteen. And you weren't asked for ID?" Danny asked, taken aback.

"Nope." I replied. "Just said what I wanted, had it done, paid and got out of there."

"You realise you could shut him down for that."

"Yeah, I do. But that would mean talking to the people that had no problem with locking me up for the night."

They went quiet again, no one saying anything around me until I had made dinner and everyone was eating.

* * *

Tuesday – October 8th – after having a shit load of fully caffeinated coffee with Derek – at a reasonable time – after _another_ stupid nightmare I was herded into Derek's car with Erica and Boyd one our way to school – Isaac had been grabbing a ride with Danny recently.

My Jeep was still getting fixed and, every time I asked Derek, he would just say that it was in the best hands... I didn't know what to make of that. And, while I liked Derek's Camaro, I missed my Jeep. My Jeep was beautiful no matter what anyone said about her. I loved her and she was mine and I missed her.

Surprisingly, it was sunny today, even if it wasn't hot. But it was a nice change from the usual rain.

But even with the weather so nice, I couldn't help but think that _something _could go wrong.

* * *

It was during my first free period that I wished I never thought that.

I had just turned a corner, heading towards the library, when I was greeted with the sight of Isaac, on the floor, bleeding, having the shit kicked out of him by Chase's 'crew'. Isaac was cowering away – who would blame him, with everything that happened with his dad – raising his arms to keep the attack away from his face.

They kicked and punched and pulled and spat...

And boy was I getting _pissed_!

Correction, I was _so beyond _pissed, that I was close to going full Alpha wolf and ripping their throats out.

So, that justified my next move of running right over to the three fuckers, grabbing one from behind and using him to bowl the other two over. As soon as the three were on their backs, looking up, I stood over all three of them, growling lowly.

"You do anything to Isaac again, and you'll regret it." I snarled. "I swear to you, I'll do worse than I did that day on the field."

The three of them ran away like the chickens they were.

Isaac, thanks to freaky wolfy powers, had already started to heal. Physically, anyway. He was sat with his back to the locker, trying to push himself onto his feet, and failing big time.

Going over to him, I offered him my hand, pulling him up slowly. Once standing, I let him rest against the lockers, standing ready, just in case he started to tip over.

I could see the tears running down his bruised and cut face, as he shook. Another growl was ripped from my throat as I watched him.

"What happened?!" I demanded, trying to keep my tone soft.

"They jumped me..." Isaac mumbled.

"I can see that. Why were you alone?"

"Scott ran off after seeing Allison go round the corner."

My eyes narrowed slightly, and I fought to keep back the red and purple. I made a mental note to have a little _talk _with Scott later on...

"Ok, well, let's get you home." I sighed.

I didn't listen to the half hearted complaints as I shouldered Isaac's backpack along with my own, and helped him towards the main reception to sign the both of us out for the rest of the day.

Our teachers would be told and work would be given to someone to give to us. It was fine. And I could always help the kid with what he didn't get.

Now we just had to start the walk back to the house. Stupid not working car...

* * *

Getting Isaac into the house was easier said than done. He was tired and using a lot of his strength to heal himself.

But, eventually, I was able to get him onto the couch. Once he was comfortable, I went to the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water. Water always tasted better after you got the shit kicked out of you, soothing your dry and sore throat. It was also a good idea to stay hydrated while healing, I knew from much experience.

By the time I had brought the glass back to him, Isaac had gone from sitting on the couch to lying across it, hugging his stomach and making this pained little whimpers. Mom always used to say that I was a nurturer – something I got from her –, which was probably why I felt the need to make Isaac feel better.

I guess the need to help people never left after my mom died, since I was the main person actually looking after her. Even if I was only six when she had first gotten ill... I always felt like it was because of something I did that she didn't get better, that she died... And dad always _loved _to tell me that it was my fault when he decided a good beating was in order.

Shaking my head a little, to clear it, I helped Isaac sit up a little to take at least a _sip _of water, before letting him lie down again.

"You alright there, kid?" I asked, placing the glass on the coffee table and kneeling in front of him.

"I'm good." he groaned. "And I'm not a 'kid'."

"Well, you're eighteen, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I'm nineteen, twenty at the end of August. I'm older than you. You're a kid"

"You're older by, just over, a year and a month."

Smiling slightly at his protests, I sat down properly on the floor, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Oh? When were you born?" I chuckled.

"July twenty fifth, nineteen ninety five." Isaac muttered, closing his eyes. "You're older by ten months and twenty nine days."

"You're still a kid, kid."

Isaac just stuck his tongue out at me – like I said, he's a kid.

* * *

By the time the others returned, Isaac was fast asleep on the couch, while I leaned back against it in front of him, watching TV quietly. I had managed to get word to them to be quiet because Isaac was sleeping before they walked through the door, so it wasn't like they were loud.

Danny came in first, smiling fondly at Isaac, until he saw the slowly fading cuts and bruises. I could feel the shift in his mood, Danny's eyes flashing a golden-yellow. I stood up, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

"He will feel the change in your emotions, which will wake him up." I explained, quietly. "Do you really want to wake him up, when sleeping helps the healing process?"

Danny sighed, sagging slightly, before dropping to the floor and running a hand through Isaac's hair gently. The young wolf – youngest out of all of us, actually – shuffled slightly, nuzzling into Danny's hand, all while still remaining asleep.

I didn't stand there watching for long though.

No. Instead, I walked over to Scott and asked if I could have a quick word with him, away from everyone else.

Which he agreed to, quickly.

I took him to the training room, letting Scott walk in first. I stayed behind him, just waiting until he turned around.

"So, what's up?" Scott asked, doing just what I was waiting for after he spoke.

As soon as the wolf had turned enough, I let my fist snap forward, hitting him right in his stupid face.

"Are you an idiot?!" I shouted. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if I didn't walk around that corner?!"

"What are you talking about?!" he yelled back, clutching his broken nose.

"Isaac you incompetent fool! You ran off when you spotted a certain hunteress, leaving him alone! Do you know how many times those jackass' have pounded on him because he was alone?!"

"What..."

"Too many _fucking _times! This is the _second _time I've had to help him get away from those homophobic knuckleheads, and you know what? I'm not even a part of this _dysfunctional _Pack!"

I lashed out again, hitting him square in the jaw. My hand would be swollen for a short amount of time, I knew that... But this was worth the bruising and the ache. No matter what anyone said, I had to do this. I had to knock some sense into this kid's _thick puppy skull_!

"What you have is a _Pack_!" I screamed. "No! Correction! It's a _PACK_ and a _FAMILY_! You don't get to pick and choose when your there! You don't get to ditch them when you know they can get hurt by some assholes!"

Scott stumbled back, even though he caught the next punch. I followed through anyway, continuing to push forwards, which threw him off balance.

I could feel my claws growing; feel my fangs threatening to show. But I couldn't let them; I could let any of them see what I really was. God knows what they would do to me if they ever found out...

No, I had to keep it hidden.

"You don't know how lucky you are!" I cried, on the verge of breaking down. "I've had everything, every_one_, I've _ever _loved ripped away from me! I would do _anything _just to have them back. And here you are, taking for granted a group of people that should matter most to you! What is wrong with you?!"

I spun around, turning my back on Scott.

I was letting my emotions get the better of me, letting my emotions be stronger. So, turning around, I grabbed a hold of a table by a corner and threw it towards the other wall, sending all the equipment on it flying.

I was shaking. Shaking to the point where the tremors were visible. I clenched my hands into fists, hard, letting one of them fly forward to connect with the wall in front of me. The wall was reinforced with a metal not even the strongest supernatural creature or human technology could break. It was designed by the supernatural world to protect ourselves, so the wall didn't even dent.

"Do you even know how much it hurts to watch while someone throws something so precious, so valuable, to the side?" I whispered, choking on my words a little. "Do you know how _painful _it is to have _nothing _and _no one_? Because, trust me, you will if you keep doing what you're doing. And, trust me when I say, you _never_ wanted to know how much that shit kills. How it chips away at your very core, each and every day, making you hollower. Because, let me tell you, once you get to a certain point, there is no going _back_."

With the last five words, I turned around to face Scott again, not caring about the hot stream of tears pouring down my face.

It was then, and only then, that the rest of the Pack ran in. All looked confused, and all were staring at me.

Maybe I should have closed the door...

* * *

Two weeks later – Tuesday, 22nd October 2013 – things were still tense between Scott and me.

Isaac had found out what had happened, but hadn't said anything, and no one else had made any comments. I went back to spending most of my time alone, either staying in the room I had or going on a walk/run.

I could feel the rest of the wolves feel a little tense around me too, since I was actually able to hurt a werewolf, without breaking any bones or being in severe pain myself. Yeah, that was a great way to keep what I really was a secret, huh? Also, it was the need to protect Pack making them wary of me, which they weren't before.

I understood perfectly... But that didn't make it hurt any less, knowing that the few people in this town – or anywhere – that actually treated me like a person were keeping a close eye on me, to ensure that I wasn't dangerous.

But I was.

I was dangerous, but that didn't mean I was bad.

Right? I wasn't bad, was I?

I mean, the only reason I hurt Scott was because he hadn't been there to protect his fellow Pack-mate. It shouldn't have been me, who was technically a stranger. But that was what had happened.

But, anyway, Tuesday 22nd October.

We were all in the kitchen, for dinner. A time where I had to be present.

Everyone was practically done and one by one people took their plates to the sink. It was all a part of the routine we had.

I had started running the water, so I could start to wash everything up, when I heard a faint thud.

"Can you get me another towel from the basement?" Derek asked, more commanded.

I froze. Basement. The _basement_. I tried to stay calm, but a basement was one place I could never go in a house. Not even my own...

Dad had this thing about dragging me down into the basement, so he could beat me without anyone hearing him... Besides, a basement was the perfect place to hang chains without any nosy eyes spotting them.

I couldn't walk into a basement without an overwhelming sense of fear taking hold of me, constricting my heart and lungs...

But I couldn't let any of them know that. So, I just nodded, swallowing thickly, as I made my way towards the stairs to the basement.

The dark, cold, _dark _basement.

Where anything could be hiding.

Where anything could be set up.

Where anything could _happen_.

I had only taken one step when it started to become difficult to breathe.

I was on the second step by the time I had stopped breathing altogether, only faintly hearing my name being called.

I was on the third step when I started shaking uncontrollably, my hands sweating, making me lose my grip on the banister.

I was on the fourth step when the panic overtook me completely, freezing me to the spot, not able to move.

I was stuck, not being able to breathe or move or do anything. I just stared down into the darkness, hearing the memories of my father screaming at me. Of a whip slicing through the air. Of the pained cries of a young teenager. The scent of fear and blood and confusion everywhere at once.

Before I knew it, I was falling. But that was all I knew.

* * *

When I woke up, I was lying on something squishy. But it wasn't a bed...

_Couch._

I rolled onto my back, only to come face to face with Jackson standing over me. I startled, my first instinct being to punch and run. But Derek caught my fist in time. I gave them both an apologetic sheepish expression, slowly pulling my hand back and placing it in my lap.

"I'm not good with basements." I whispered, feeling very much like a three year old again, explaining how I knew their monsters in my closet. "Too many bad memories. Don't want to go into detail. Stiles and basements don't mix well together."

A wave of understanding came from each and every one of them, something I appreciated greatly.

"Ok, no basements." Derek said, gentleness in his voice that I had never heard before.

From the look – smell – of it, neither had the rest of Derek's Pack. Though, for Peter, he just probably hadn't heard it for _a long _time.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks so very much everyone XD**_


	13. What?

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase**.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 12**

**Stiles**

Wednesday, October 23rd, was when a few members of the Pack cornered me. It was outside the university, in the near empty parking lot.

I had finally gotten my Jeep back, everything fixed – even things that didn't need replacing had been fixed and replaced! – but apart from that it was just how I remembered it. She ran a lot better now, I had to admit.

Allison, Jackson and Boyd had all come up to me before I had a chance to grab my backpack out of the back seat of my Jeep. The three stood in front of me, Jackson looking bored as always. But he wasn't fooling anyone – especially me. He was a big _softy_ wolf, really. I mean, he may act all tough, but I could see through that stupid exterior of his. He was just a cuddly pup on the inside; he was just trying to protect himself...

"Can I help you?" I asked, sighing a little, as I grabbed the handle of my backpack.

"Why did you hit Scott?" Allison demanded, glaring a little.

Raising an eyebrow, I huffed slightly. This was all about me hitting her boyfriend? Wow... That was..._not _what I was expecting.

"What? Didn't the _big dogs _tell you? They heard every word after all." I asked, snickering a little at Jackson's growl. "Didn't Scotty tell you?"

When Allison said nothing, I rolled my eyes, hefting my backpack onto my shoulder, shifting it around so it didn't touch any of my newer scars too much. While they may have healed over, that meant nothing about them being any less uncomfortable.

"Look, you don't leave Pack." I shrugged. "Simple as. No matter who or what you see, you stick together. If one gets hurt, or worse, it affects you all. So, excuse me for trying to drill that into his tiny puppy mind."

I started walking away, hoping that she would just drop it and leave me alone. I really had to get to class and I didn't want to be late, for the first time ever.

But then I froze when the next words came from behind me.

I couldn't for the life of me remember who said them.

I don't know why they asked.

All I know is that someone spoke.

"_What's the deal with you and basements? Who made you so afraid of them anyway?"_

I just stood there.

Completely still.

Did they ever get taught that it was not polite to ask questions like that?

Straightening my back and sucking in a short breath, I closed my eyes briefly.

"That's none of your concern." I muttered, slightly bitterly, before I continued walking away, towards the building.

* * *

It was later that day, because of that one comment, that I could be found in the training room, beating the shit out of one of the punch bags.

It seemed to be a recurring thing with me – hitting on poor innocent punch bags. But how else was I supposed to get rid of all my pent up energy and frustration? Was I supposed to punch one of the Betas? Or Derek? Was supposed to take it out on myself?

Either way, I prefer the punch bag getting the shit knocked out of it.

I decided that if I work on my fighting skills and speed after school for two, maybe three, hours straight, then I should be fine. As long as I wasn't interrupted, I would be fine. But I doubted, very much, that I would be left alone.

And I knew that, even as Derek slipped into the room, thinking he had gone unnoticed by me.

"You just going to stand there, or are you going to do something?" I panted, continuing to stare at and kick and punch the cylindrical bag in front of me.

Saying nothing, Derek only came over and held the bag steady, as we both watched it start to tip to the side. He gave me a slight, barely there; nod, as if signalling for me to continue my attack. So I did.

I punched harder and faster, getting to a point where I was going to wolf/fox out. But, in an effort to calm myself, I just let my claws pierce through my skin, the pain keeping me anchored.

Derek and I didn't speak as I continued to beat the living crap out of the bag in front of me, until I started to get more frustrated, causing the reaction of me to pick up the bag and throw it at the wall. The Alpha Sourwolf rolled his eyes as he watched me, probably thinking it was some sort of temper tantrum.

_Please_, he would be lucky if it was _just _a 'temper tantrum'!

* * *

Derek joined me every time I trained by myself, turning it into two man session. At first I had protested, but I could see the benefits of training with an Alpha. Especially since I never got the chance to be taught by my original one – my mom.

Wednesday 30th October, Derek and I were running.

Sometimes we'd be in the training room for three hours straight, or we'd run for that amount of time, and sometimes we'd do half and half. I preferred us doing the one thing for the full three hours, and the running was always my favourite.

Today, we had ran deeper into the woods than we had yet, the thick foliage starting to thin out until it opened up into this large field with short blades of grass and a river running through it.

It looked like one of those scenes you'd get in a cheesy romance film; where the two main characters that fall in love have their first 'spectacularly amazing' first kiss. It was cliché and horrible and, just once, I would love for it to be different. You know?

I rolled my eyes at how my mind ran away from me and how script writers could never come up with anything different. Shaking my head, we kept running.

The motion of turning my head quickly, from one side to the other, was probably what caused me to completely miss the rock that was in front of me.

Which made me fall on to Derek.

Who had turned at the last second.

Making us both fall to the floor.

With me on top of Derek.

Like that day when we were both doing the washing up.

But this time was different. _Oh, so_ _different! _

The impact caused my head to fly forward and the same time as Derek's, our lips touching together.

Oh, that so was _not _cool! Well, I mean, it _was_! I swear there were actual visible sparks, but I didn't put too much thought to that as I pulled away in a panic. I jumped up and off of Derek, running back towards the house before he had even sat up, trying to get rid of the burning desire to kiss Derek again, but _properly_.

I couldn't be thinking that.

And definitely _not _about Derek!

I couldn't!

I couldn't fall for it again!

It was another trick! And I wouldn't let good looks or impossible charm or _whatever_ fool me again.

* * *

**Derek**

I watched as Stiles ran, panic and lust and a slight hint on embarrassment exuding off of him.

For one of the first times in a long time, I was confused. That had never happened to me before. I had never kissed anyone – no matter how accidental it was – where sparks had actually been felt.

Deciding I needed to talk to Deaton, I picked myself up off of the ground and made my way back to my house.

However, it turned out that Deaton was going to make this easier for me.

Once I had gotten back to the house, I found him waiting outside, only brightening up slightly as he saw me approach.

"Derek, hello." he greeted. "I just came by to see how Stiles was doing."

"He's doing fine." I said. "Speaking of, what do you know about him?"

"Everything, his mother and I were good friends when she was still alive."

I nodded, thoughtfully. I was going to have to word this next bit right if I was going to get an answer.

First thing I did was listen, trying to find Stiles' heartbeat anywhere in the house. When I couldn't find it, I guessed he was hiding out in his room...

But that didn't mean the rest of the Pack weren't listening in.

"So, you know what he is?" I asked, slowly.

"You mean that he is half werewolf and half were-fox?" Deaton laughed. "Of course I know, how do you think he's been hiding the scent? He comes to me with help for that."

"He's a what?!"

Deaton's heartbeat had stayed steady... He was telling the truth.

A half werewolf half were-fox was _extremely rare_, there was almost non in existence. Their fox half had brilliant purple eyes and they also had the eyes of their wolf. When turned into their half and half self, one eye would be the purple while the other eye would be the colour of their wolf's eyes. I had thought they were a myth! But there was one living in my house. With my Pack.

I _knew _there was something about him!

"I should leave now." Deaton muttered, a small scent of panic coming off of him. "Stiles should be the one to explain this, not me. I though you knew..."

The vet trailed off as he slid into his car, pulling away without another word.

Half werewolf half were-fox.

No wonder he was able to beat the Betas in training – or almost beat me.

This was suddenly explaining a lot of things...

* * *

**Stiles**

I hadn't slept the night before. Well, not really anyway. If I did, the nightmares would take me. Besides, I couldn't help but keep thinking about what happened in the forest with Derek.

I was still thinking about it now – Thursday, 31st October, aka Halloween.

I didn't like Halloween much, especially when people dressed up as werewolves. I thought their depiction of them were degrading and just completely wrong. I hated that you couldn't tell who it was behind the mask. I hated that so many people were out after dark...

I always preferred to stay in on Halloween, though it had usually just been me in the house. This time, I had a whole Pack of werewolves too, who actually shared my views of the stupid holiday. And, at four that afternoon, everyone had completed their jobs for tonight.

Allison, Erica and Lydia had made sure we all had plenty of junk food for everyone to just stuff themselves with.

Danny, Isaac and Jackson had made sure there was enough to drink – both alcohol and soft drinks.

Allison, Boyd and Scott had made sure we had all DVDs in the house pilled by the TV, so we could chose what we wanted to watch.

Derek, Peter and I had found all the blankets, duvets and pillows we could find, dragging them downstairs and leaving them in a huge pile on the floor.

Everything was in place, all we had to do was decide what DVD was going in first and then we could start our night!

Of course, that was when the doorbell rang.

Derek, being the head of the household, moved over to the door, while the rest of us found a place on the floor – hence the blankets, duvets and pillows.

I had just sat down when I heard it. One of the two voices that caused my blood to run cold, my heart to beat fast, and for panic to start to take hold of me.

"_Hi, I'm looking for Stiles." _a familiar voice sounded. _"Stiles Stilinski."_

No! Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! _No! _I froze where I was standing, heart beating fast.

"And you are?" Derek asked, slowly, carefully, coldly.

"_Well, I'm Zane. Zane Brooks." _the voice replied. _"I'm Stiles' boyfriend."_

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks so much to everyone so far XD**_


	14. Zane Brooks

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase**.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 13**

**Stiles**

Shit.

That was the only word I could think.

I had nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

Somehow, he had found me. And, this time, I couldn't escape.

Isaac, who was sitting next to me at the time, tensed slightly. Looking over to his, I found the kid clenching his jaw, trying hard – and succeeding – to hide whatever he might be feeling – even in scent. That was something I didn't have to worry about. The stuff Deaton gave me to hide my werewolf/were-fox scent covered some of my emotions too. This meant that none of them, none but Isaac, knew how I really felt about Zane standing there.

To say they were all surprised when he introduced himself as my '_boyfriend_' would be a _hugely enormously massive _understatement.

Not saying a word, Derek opened the door wider to allow Zane in. My heart was beating rapidly, almost to the point where it would kill a normal human. They all – again, all except Isaac – probably thought it was out of excitement or something.

Before Zane even got the chance to step in, I was on my feel – Isaac next to me – heading towards the kitchen to hide.

But I wasn't fast enough.

As soon as I got to the door, I thought I was going to make it. I could go for a run, stay away until Zane left. It was going alright, until...

"Stiles!" Zane gasped in forced relief. "I've been looking _everywhere _for you!"

Next thing I knew, I was being spun around and pulled against him, my arms trapped between his and my chests. I went as rigid as a doornail.

I hadn't hugged anyone since I was ten, but no one had hugged _me_ in since I was thirteen.

But what could I do right now?

Zane's fingers dug into my sides, where the old bruises had already started to disappear. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Why did you run away, babe?" he asked, worry colouring his face and voice.

I hated him calling me that. '_Babe_'. Or even '_baby_'. It didn't sound right, it didn't sound nice. I didn't like it. Only my mom could call me '_baby_'!

But I couldn't say anything.

In a surprisingly gentle and creepy way, Zane ran the back of his hand down my cheek when I didn't reply, causing me to flinch a little.

His hold on me just tightened.

"Shhh, it's ok, baby." he smiled, pretending to be comforting. "Don't be scared. I'm here now."

Everyone probably thought I was too '_happily_' surprised to say anything, all of them smiling a little.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to only just tell Isaac about this creep...

"Hey, Stiles." Isaac said, quietly, from behind me. "I know this is kind of a big deal, but do you mind helping me in the kitchen? You know I'm useless in there."

_Isaac was _officially_ my favourite!_

_God bless that boy!_

Squirming out of Zane's hold, I nodded, placing a shaky hand on his shoulder.

"Sure can do, pup." I told him, voice just above a whisper.

Rolling his eyes, Isaac opened the door to the kitchen, letting me go inside first.

Before closing it, after Isaac had stepped in, I heard Peter tell Zane to '_take a seat_'.

* * *

I was panicking. Badly. Like, I had never panicked like this before in my _life_!

As soon as the door had closed, I had slid onto the floor, not being able to keep myself standing any more.

I was shaking.

I was sweating.

I was finding it hard to breathe and it felt like I was choking.

I felt sick.

I felt dizzy.

My heart was palpitating and my chest hurt.

_Panic attack._

No, _no_! I couldn't have a panic attack now! I couldn't have a panic attack, not now!

_Probably not a good idea to panic about the panic attack, Stiles!_

Yeah, probably not. Really not. Need to calm down. Need to calm down...

_But Zane was in the next room!_

Ok, this was _so not _helping!

"_Stiles?"_

There was someone saying my name. Who was saying my name? Was someone here with me? Wait, _where _was I?! Where was '_here_'?!

Oh God! Was I in the basement again?! Was I in the hospital? Was this some sort of coma induced dream? Was I in a mental institute, making up some better life to help me cope with the trauma?

Was I actually dying? Was this life's way of saying sorry? Giving me a chance to see what it was like to have people care, only to have it ruined by this asshole?

"_Stiles! You need to calm down! Breathe!" _the voice continued. _"It's me, Isaac! Come on, Stiles!"_

Isaac... Isaac Lahey? As in puppy Isaac?

Isaac the werewolf.

Isaac who knew what Zane was like.

Isaac who I was in the kitchen with right now.

The kitchen of Hale house, where I was staying.

I could feel my breathing and heart rate start to return to normal, but nothing could take away the dread I felt. My stomach was churning; I thought I was going to be sick. I leaned forward, where I was sitting, using a technique I picked up from if you have asthma attacks. Apparently, if you lean forward, it relives the pressure on your lungs.

It seemed to work.

I looked up into the worried face of Isaac, who was actually crouching down in front of me, hand halfway between us. I guess he was hesitant about touching me, knowing what happened for the others when that happened...

"Please say you'll help me through this, pup." I whispered, sounding like a scared child even to myself.

Isaac nodded, shuffling forward slightly. I gave him a small, shaky smile, leaning my head forward a little.

I didn't realise the top of my forehead was touching his shoulder until I saw the grey of his t-shirt.

* * *

When Isaac and I walked out of the kitchen, the kid had a Halloween themed mug – it was beyond cheesy – filled with hot chocolate. He was bugging me about making him some before the bell rang, so it's not like it was suspicious or anything – _thank fuck! _

I sat down on the floor again, with Isaac. I received a few confused looks, probably them all wondering why I wasn't sitting with Zane instead... Pfft, like I would _want _go anywhere _near _that jackass!

"So, Zane, how long have you and Stiles been together?" Allison asked, grinning...

"Three years." Zane smiled back – _I hated to say it, but he was a good actor...jackass. _"Stiles was sixteen at the time, I was eighteen."

I held in a growl at the chorus of 'a_w_' from the girls. This was doing nothing to help! He was being nice and sweet, just like he was with me at the beginning. But he wasn't going to be the asshat I knew he was. _Oh no! _He'd be charming and act all caring, just too...

_SHIT!_

He was doing this to take me back to Dallas!

I pretty much forced my heartbeat to stay down...

"Three years?" Jackson muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Why hasn't he mentioned you?"

"Probably busy with school, right babe?" Zane grinned, looking over at me. "And he can be really forgetful sometimes."

I didn't know how he was doing it, but he was getting around all of these questions without lying. It wasn't fair! He was getting away with all of this, in front of the people who can tell if he's lying!

Where was karma when you needed it?!

Zane reached over – _shit, I wished I moved further away!_ – placing his hand on the back of my neck. I couldn't cover up the flinch, but I felt his hand tighten, digging into the skin, before I could get away.

I sat where I was stiffly, hoping that if I sat still enough I would be able to forget the horrible pressure of his hand.

Yeah, that wasn't working too well for me.

"I was so worried when I found out he was gone." Zane continued – _yeah, worried I had told someone what he was doing!_ "No one knew where he was. Then I saw the Jeep gone... I went everywhere I could think of."

"How did you end up here?" Lydia asked, relaxing back on Jackson's lap.

"Luck, I guess. I was driving through the town; only as I was passing this place I caught sight of a familiar blue Jeep. I just _had _to try. I mean, wouldn't you after two months of looking?"

"Two months?" Erica questioned. "Stiles, you first moved into town two months ago, right?"

"Two months and a day." I whispered.

I had started scratching my arm, like I had in Derek's Camaro when I was dragged out on that shopping trip, for new clothes. I wasn't paying attention to it, just running my nails over and over that one spot, not caring when it had gone red or that I started to press harder and harder.

"Why didn't to tell anyone?" Danny wondered.

I shrugged. If I didn't answer with my words then they wouldn't know I was lying.

"He was probably too excited, right baby?" Zane chuckled, his hand tightening painfully.

I just nodded.

"Silly thing forgot his cell phone too, so we couldn't get a hold of him." Zane added.

* * *

It got worse.

All but Isaac had fallen in love with Zane!

But something even worse happened.

_They all left me alone with him!_

Danny had dragged Isaac into the kitchen – door closed – Jackson and Lydia following them.

Erica and Boyd had gone outside – Boyd had a call about an after school job and Erica wanted to be the first to know how this call went.

Peter was upstairs doing...well, whatever it was Peter does.

Scott and Allison had just disappeared.

And Derek had gone upstairs too.

Now it was just Zane... And me... Alone.

I didn't know if anyone would hear or come running if this ended how it usually did – me bleeding and burning and crying. I mean, Zane didn't know they were werewolves, so he didn't know that they could hear everything... But I knew that these rooms were soundproof and, if the doors were closed, you heard nothing unless someone knocked on the door.

When Derek had left the room, leaving the two of us alone, Zane shoved me hard by the neck, causing me to hit my head on the corner of the table. I bit my lip too keep from whimpering as I felt a small cut open. It wouldn't do me any good to scream.

"Did you _really _think you could get away from me?" he spat, turning to face me. "I guess you forgot your _lessons_. Looks like I'll have to _teach you _all over again."

My eyes widened slightly from fear, not that I meant to let that happen. He just grinned at the thought that he did that. That he was the one to make me scared.

_Creep!_

Zane raised his arm, curling his hand into a fist, before letting it snap forward and hit me. The punch landed on my eye, which forced me to move my hands to hold the place that was causing me pain.

That just made it easier for him to give a couple of blows to my stomach, forcing me onto the floor fully with a swift kick to the same place.

My vision started to go fuzzy as pain induced tears started to fill my eyes, slipping over the edge silently, rolling down my slowly bruising cheek and eye.

"We're leaving for Dallas, right. This. Second." Zane demanded, stepping forward to haul my up by the scruff of my neck.

I couldn't find it in myself to refuse. I couldn't risk what he would do to me. Not here.

"I'll go get my stuff." I whispered, looking down at the ground.

Heading towards the stairs, I tried to think of something, _anything_, that could help me with this!

But I didn't know if there _was _anything.

* * *

Up on the third floor, I saw that the door to Derek's room was wide open... I had to try, right?

I pretty much ran in, colliding with a wall of warm muscle. Two hands were placed on my shoulders pushing me back a little, a face filled with concern coming into view.

"Derek. Please. _Help me_!" I whimpered, quietly, so Zane didn't hear me, more tears spilling over. "I-I don't want to go! I can't go back there! Please, _please _don't make me go back there! I'm _begging _you! I will do _anything_! Just... _Please help me_!"

"Stiles... What are you talking about?" Derek asked, softly.

A small distressed whine escaped my throat, attracting Peter from his room, coming over to join us.

I ran both of my hands through my hair, tugging madly at it.

"Zane. Zane isn't who you think he is. Trust me, I thought he was a great guy at firs too, but does a great guy do this to you?!" I asked in a whispered yell, gesturing wildly at my face. "You don't know what he's _really _like! And he's trying to take me back to Dallas. _Please_, I will do anything if you help me and let me stay here! _Please_! I don't think I'll even make it _back _to Dallas!"

Both Hales frowned, both confused and starting to get a little angry.

"He's been doing this for two years, eight months, two weeks and five days. Shut up, I'm smart, I worked it out!" I continued, still gesturing wildly with my arms and hands. "He will probably _kill me_ if he gets me away from here. Or rape me like he normally _tries _to do. _Or _both! _Please, just hel..._"

That seemed to be all I needed to say.

Derek was off in a flash – literally – down the stairs.

I was standing on the landing, shaking, bruised, a little bloodied and freaked beyond belief with Peter next to me. Slowly, the older Hale placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me enough time to see it, before he guided me back downstairs.

Where _everyone _suddenly was.

* * *

Everyone had appeared in the living room again as soon as Derek had jumped down the stairs in a mad fury.

It would have been awesome if this was any other circumstance.

Peter and I followed slowly behind. But, while Peter joined Derek and the others on the ground floor, I sat on the stairs, separated from Zane by the banisters and the ten people I had been living with.

"Get out of my house." Derek snarled, backing Zane up towards the door.

"What? What have I done?!" Zane protested.

"Get out of my house! I don't want your kind near me or them and especially _not _Stiles."

"My kind?! What does that mean?!"

"Abusive attempted rapists."

Everything went silent.

Everything stopped.

Isaac, who hadn't been told about that last part, turned to me with wide eyes. I stared down at my lap, gripping onto one of the wooden bars on the banister with an iron tight grip, avoiding the looks I was getting. Panic was starting to take over again, clenching at my insides, playing them to its whim.

But that didn't last for long.

"You pathetic, little, snitching, frigid bastard!" Zane snarled. "I should have bashed your _head _in with that baseball bat, instead. Or, maybe, I should have run that knife _through _you."

"_GET OUT!_" Derek roared, freighting all of us. "And never come back. Unless you want the police to find your body scattered across America in bite sized pieces."

"This isn't over." Zane growled, mainly towards me.

"Yes. It is."

Derek pretty much threw Zane out of the door, slamming and locking it into place.

The last thing I remember was shifting. Shifting into my Beta wolf with one red eye and one purple eye and a fox tail – my ears were kind of half and half, like my eyes.

Then everything just went black.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks so very much everyone XD**_


	15. Explain

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Chase**.**

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please review XD**

**Chapter 14**

**Stiles**

I didn't know how long I had been out of it but, by the time I came too, it was dark.

_Wasn't it dark when I passed out? Was Zane..._

Zane! Shit!

My eyes snapped open. The first thing I noticed was my head was bending down. The second thing I noticed? I was _fucking chained_! For the second time that evening, I was shaking.

I was sweating.

I was finding it hard to breathe and it felt like I was choking.

I felt sick.

I felt dizzy.

My heart was palpitating and my chest hurt.

_Another panic attack._

"N-No!" I stuttered, struggling against the mountain ash laced metal that was wrapped around my waist and wrists. "No, no! NO!"

The more I struggled, the tighter the chains got.

The tighter the chains got, the harder it was to breathe.

The harder it was to breathe, the more I panicked.

"GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF THESE THINGS!" I screamed, the panic becoming too much.

I needed to breathe. I needed to move. _Why was I even chained up?!_

I heard shuffling somewhere behind me, bringing to light that I was in fact chained to the stairs I had been sitting on. I heard the stomp of footsteps as people ran over to me, someone unlocking both sets of chains, even as I continued to struggle, talking to me even though I couldn't make out what they were saying. But their voice was calming. Calming and soothing, but that did nothing to stop the panic.

As soon as the chains fell away, I chucked them off as quickly as I could, getting them as far away from me as possible, letting them slide down the stairs. As I struggled after I was released, I fell forwards colliding with a wall of warm muscle. It was then that I saw Derek with a key, looking concerned again.

We stayed like that for a moment, even after Derek helped me to sit on one of the steps of the stairs again. My hand had shot out, gripping onto one of the wooden bars on the banister.

"I don't like chains either." I gasped out in a quiet voice.

"Stiles, you need to calm down." Derek told me, gently.

"I need to run again. I need to find somewhere else to go."

"Stiles, you don't need to run anywhere."

"Maybe I should go abroad. Like England."

"Stiles..."

"I can't let him find me again."

A hand touched my shoulder, silencing me instantly.

Slowly, somehow, my breathing started to regulate, my heartbeat started to slow. That had never happened before. His hand on my shoulder was nothing like Zane's on my neck. It didn't feel wrong, it wasn't uncomfortable, it wasn't painful...

Hesitantly, I looked up into the face of the Alpha wolf. Derek was frowning slightly.

"You don't need to run anymore." Derek repeated.

"You're staying with us." Peter agreed, serious for once.

"But you do need to explain what the fuck just happened." Jackson commented, slowly.

That did it... My heart rate spiked again as my hand tightened around the banister. Derek growled over at Jackson, the sudden low and loud rumbling making me jump, forcing my hand to constrict around the wooden bar so much that it snapped.

I stared at the piece of wood in my hands, splinters of wood hanging off each end of it. I stared at it, before turning to face Derek, opening my mouth to apologise, placing the piece of wood down. The Alpha just held his hand up, shaking his head.

"Don't say sorry." Derek said.

"Yeah, you told me you always hate when people apologise for something they didn't do." Danny smiled. "Or in this case, didn't mean."

I pulled my lip between my teeth, biting hard.

There was a beat of silence. A seemingly long silence, where I just stared down at my feet. But I had to speak. I needed to explain about Zane. I had to explain about my shifting. They deserved that much from me.

So, slowly, I lifted my head again.

"I will explain." I whispered, brokenly. "But I can't now..."

"Why don't we watch a DVD?" Allison suggested. "You know, a _really_ cheesy one. Come on, Stiles, you pick."

Slowly, giving me time to pull away, Allison took my hand, pulling it gently until I stood up and started to follow her. As soon as I had stepped off of the last stair, Allison let go of my hand, placing her arm around my shoulders, Lydia doing the same on the other side.

It was strange. And I knew everyone could tell I thought that. But that didn't deter the two girls as the steered me towards the living room.

Allison and Lydia guided me until they got me to sit down in front of the giant stack of DVDs, telling me to look through and pick the first one. The rest of them seemed to encourage this, all smiling a little, no one mentioning anything else but the movies.

Words could not describe how grateful I was for that...

So, I was looking through the DVDs piled on the floor. I took the DVD off of the top of the pile – after seeing what it was – starting a new pile next to it. I kept going and kept going.

Until I found it.

I wasn't even close to halfway through the pile, but I found it.

I froze, looking at the case, smiling sadly at the title and picture. I hadn't watched it in years, let alone any of the others...

"What?" Lydia asked, softly.

"When she was still alive, my mom used to watch Disney films with me." I explained. "We'd watch them for hours, singing along to the songs or quoting it at the same time... It always made me feel better, especially when I was sick or had a hard time at school. I haven't watched any Disney films since she...since she died."

"I haven't had a Disney marathon in years!" Isaac grinned. "Put it in!"

* * *

I honestly thought it would have been harder to get them all to agree – especially Derek, Peter, Jackson, Boyd and Erica.

Nope!

They were all for it, straight away, not one of them lying.

So, that was how we were all gathered on the floor, and had watched 101 Dalmatians first. Seriously, it was like one giant puppy pile and I was between Derek and Isaac.

It went on for a while, so thank God we had so much food and drink out.

I mean, we got through: 101 Dalmatians, Aladdin, The AristoCats, Beauty and the Beast – a fun one to watch with werewolves... –, The Black Cauldron, A Bugs Life, Cinderella, The Emperor's New Groove – heh, _'__ugly, stinky, llama face_' –, Finding Nemo, A Goofy Movie, Hercules, Hocus Pocus – we had to have _one_ Halloween film –, The Jungle Book, Lady and the Tramp, Lady and the Tramp 2: Scamp's Adventure, Lilo and Stitch, The Lion King, The Lion king 2, The Little Mermaid, The Little Mermaid 2, Mary Poppins, Mulan, Mulan 2, The Muppet Christmas Carol, Muppet Treasure Island, Oliver and Company, Peter Pan, Peter Pan 2, Pinocchio, Pocahontas, Pocahontas 2: Journey to a New World, Pollyanna, Robin Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, The Sword in the Stone, Tarzan, Toy Story.

Yeah, it was safe to say we were well into the early morning of November 1st now...

We had only just started _'__Toy Story 2_' though, when I finally decided I should say something. They hadn't pushed me for an answer, and that just made me like the all so much more.

"So, I guess I can't keep pretending I'm a normal human anymore, huh?" I muttered.

Derek paused the DVD, everyone turning to me, but staying quiet.

"No." Derek mused. "Would have been better to hear about it from you first, rather than Deaton."

"What?!"

"Deaton thought we all knew already, so he mentioned it to me."

Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, dragging them down my neck.

"What the fuck are you anyway?" Erica asked.

"Half werewolf half were-fox. I like to call myself a were-folf." I sighed. "My mom was a were-folf, but her dad was a werewolf and her mom was a were-fox. My mom and I are the only were-folfs I know of, and now it's only me left. You saw what I look like: beta form of a wolf, fox tail, half wolf half fox ears, one purple eye one red eye."

"Purple is the colour for the fox, every were-fox has purple eyes." Derek added. "But the red eye means your wolf is an Alpha."

"When my grandpa died, my mom became Alpha. When my mom died, I became Alpha. We didn't tell anyone what we were, not even my dad."

Everyone nodded, understanding the reluctance to let anyone in on such an important secret... At least they knew what it was like.

"I'm not the best at controlling it... I have to dig my claws into my skin if I feel like I'm shifting... But that's because my mom didn't have time to teach me properly. I had to teach myself and I only just managed to get myself through a full moon without turning and going crazy." I explained. "I have healing powers, but I don't heal as fast a werewolf – a drawback to my fox – but I heal faster than humans. Some scars don't heal, which is why I've got so many of them. When I turn into a fox, and only a fox, I have no Beta form, I look exactly like one. In that form I can manipulate the different elements – fire, water, Earth, air – but only in that form. As a wolf I can turn into my Beta and Alpha form, depending on what I want to do. But, like my fox, I only have one form as a half and half, which is the form you saw."

They all nodded, slowly. It was a lot of information, I knew that... But I had to tell them.

"As a human, I can use mountain ash to form a barrier, too..." I finished lamely.

It was silent for so long.

* * *

We sat there for what felt like hours, but really it was only ten minutes, before I lifted my head up to stare straight ahead at the wall in front of me.

"Are you mad?" I whispered, feeling like I was younger than all of them instead of one of the oldest. "Are you going to kick me out because I'm dangerous?"

"What? No!" Derek scoffed.

"We understand why." Boyd nodded.

"Like I said," Peter stretched. "You're staying with us."

"What about Zane?" Scott asked, hesitantly.

And I should have _so _expected that...

"Forget about it. It was nothing." I mumbled.

"That was nothing?!" Derek hissed.

"Compared to what he usually does to me? Yes."

"Stiles..."

Sighing, I guessed I couldn't really keep this away from them. So I just dived right into explaining.

I told them about how I met Zane after school, in the parking lot. I told them how he seemed like an alright guy, so I started dating them. I said how he acted just like he did while he was in the house, all charming and caring and stuff.

I told them how a few months later he started getting violent, using knives and fire and a baseball bat and a range of other stuff. I told them the _three _reasons he had for doing it – for me 'learning my place' in out 'relationship', for 'learning' that he was 'in charge' and so he could beat the shit out of me for not giving in to having sex with him.

I told them how I couldn't leave or tell anyone – he would kill me! Besides, who would believe the kid who got arrested so much, even if he didn't _actually _do the crime.

I didn't hold back on anything this time, noting how horrified even _Isaac _looked. And he had told me what his dad did to _him_! I told them everything to do with Zane, start to finish.

And it actually felt good to get it off of my chest.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jackson asked, once I had finished speaking.

"Honestly?" I sighed. "I didn't think you would help."

"Why did he say you're still together?" Lydia wondered.

"Well I didn't exactly say I was leaving!" I shrieked. "And if I went to him '_oh, by the way, we're breaking up_', be would have _fucking killed me_!"

Groaning, I let myself fall backwards onto the pile of pillows and duvets, placing my hands over my face.

"Well, hey. You got us now." Isaac smiled. "You're one of us now, part of our freaky little family."

That was the first time in a long time that I actually felt cared for and a part of something.

That was when I realised; I had been missing these people from my life for _far too long_.

* * *

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	16. Training and Paint

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane, Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 15**

**Stiles**

When I woke up on Friday November 1st, at ten in the morning, was surrounded by heat. It took me seconds to remember that I was in the living room, surrounded by the Pack, since we never moved after we finished '_Toy Story 2_', during the early hours of the morning_._

I was still between Derek and Isaac, Isaac's back to mine, while I faced Derek. I found it weird that I was actually able to sleep surrounded by strangers, but I found it stranger how I had ended up pressed against Derek's chest, with the Alpha's arms wrapped around me and my head resting in the crook of his neck. Derek – still asleep – had his heard turned down, pressing it into the top of my hair, the air he was letting go of disturbing the locks.

_How did that even happen?_

More importantly: _why was I not panicking?_

I would never have let this happen with someone, even in an unconscious state, but somehow I had with Derek... And it didn't feel bad...

What was happening to me?

Pulling my head back and shaking it a little, I carefully and slowly removed myself from the sleeping Alpha, making sure not to wake him or anyone else up as I did so.

It took about five minutes to actually get myself standing and another three to get myself out of the puppy pile, but I managed it in the end.

Now, onto my first order of business: bathroom.

* * *

I had a spark of inspiration whilst in the bathroom – shut up, it happens for people.

And that was how I found myself in the kitchen making breakfast.

I never actually made breakfast for them before, only ever lunch and dinner. But if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have even been there that morning... So breakfast it was!

It was a good thing I knew what they all liked, how they all had their coffee or if they had coffee at all. I knew where they all sat and what mugs or glasses they preferred to use on a morning.

Living with these people for just over a month had actually put me into a routine. A routine that I had memorized already.

I had the table all set, with coffee brewing near me, as I went about making pancakes and cooking bacon and scrambled eggs and sausages.

I had never made pancakes for such a large group, especially when that group were mostly werewolves... Even as a half wolf half fox I didn't eat that much, but that was more due to my father starving me most days, to be honest... So it was going to be interesting to see how this would work.

But I was going to try. It was the least I could do; to say thanks for all they had done for me so far...even if I barely knew them.

* * *

The bacon, sausages and eggs were done and loaded onto each plate, which were already placed on the table and still nice and hot. I was still working on the pancakes, already on my tenth batch.

I didn't know how many I need, so I decided to make eleven batches of pancakes... At least then I _should _have more than enough.

It was then that I heard the faint footsteps of one person making their way towards the kitchen. I kept half concentrated on them – so I wasn't surprised and attacked when they walked in – and half concentrated on the pancakes. I couldn't let any of them burn!

"Morning." I greeted, once the footsteps stopped in the doorway. "I didn't know how much I should make, so I just made a lot. Well, I don't know if it's a lot to you, but it's a lot to me. But I figured werewolves eat a lot, so it's fine, and they can always be kept for another time if need be, well, that's if you want to. Do you guys even like pancakes, I really should have asked, I'm so sorry! Do you guys like pancakes? Or should I throw these out? I am so..."

"Don't throw them out." Derek's sleep roughened voice said, drifting through the air over to me. "Why are you babbling so much?"

Cringing slightly, I could feel the heat rise to my face – I was blaming the heat from the oven!

I didn't turn around, just continued to pour the batter into the pan, flipping it when needed. Clearing my throat, I kept a close eye on what I was doing... The last time I made pancakes, my dad had decided to use the heat to burn me, since he wasn't able to get to his cigarettes or lighter.

"Sorry, I do that sometimes." I whispered. "Though it would be worse if I was nervous."

"Do me a favour?" Derek asked, walking closer until he could grab his mug from the table, the walk to my side and fill it with coffee. "Never get nervous."

Glancing to my side, I caught sight of the guy smirking a little. Was it bad that he looked hotter when smirking? Probably, yes! I should not be thinking that, I should not be feeling this!

"What's with the breakfast, anyway?" Derek asked. "Thanks, by the way."

"My way of saying thank you." I shrugged. "For last night. For taking me in. For everything you've done for me so far, really."

Derek didn't say anything, but I could feel him watching me. But it wasn't like most people would, he wasn't staring and judging me, he wasn't gawking. He was just looking. That was the only way I could describe it.

It didn't feel _as _uncomfortable, though there still was some discomfort.

"How are you feeling after yesterday?" Derek wondered, quietly.

"Sore." I sighed. "But I've had worse. You've seen my medical history. I'll be fine though, don't worry about me."

"Too late. I've been thinking. Why don't we have some private training sessions, just you and me? So you can start learning to control your wolf and fox."

"You would do that? For _me_?"

I turned to look at Derek, forgetting, for a moment, about the pancakes and the hot pan. I watched as Derek nodded, calmly... I allowed a small smile to appear on my face as I nodded back, silently hoping that we would start very soon.

* * *

Derek and I started these lessons the next day – Saturday, November 2nd – in the afternoon.

The others were sitting, watching TV, while Derek and I were in the training room. I had already removed my shirt, to save my scars from being irritated from the beginning, Derek doing the same for a reason I wasn't sure on. Probably so it wouldn't cling to him.

It was then that I noticed – apart from his _hot_, _Godlike_ body – the tattoo on his back. For a moment, I thought I was seeing things, but even after blinking as fast as I could and rubbing at my eyes, it was still there.

_Well, that's a first._

The tattoo was higher up than mine, between his shoulder blades, while mine had been placed on the middle of my back. It was the only one he had on his permanently slightly-golden-tanned skin.

And, you know what, I was a guy, I can't help if I'm starting. _At his tattoo! _Yeah, totally at his tattoo...

"What?" Derek huffed.

I hadn't even realised he had turned around until that moment.

Coughing to clear my throat, I looked up. Derek was frowning slightly, but not out of anger, but out of confusion. It was like a puppy – heh, puppy...

"Your tattoo." I explained. "I didn't realise it was the same as mine."

Derek just grunted.

"Why did you get it?" I asked, not able to help myself. "You know the reason behind all of mine."

Derek stayed quiet for a moment. I thought that he would just turn around and not tell me anything. Which would be weird, since he had been nice to me so far. But then that nothing, really.

"For me, it stands for the three types of werewolves – Alpha, Beta and Omega." Derek told me. "It reminds me that, while we can rise, we can also fall – a Beta becoming and Alpha or an Alpha falling back down to Omega status."

"When did you get it?" I asked.

"When I was eighteen living in New York, with my sister Laura. A year after the fire that killed my family, and a few years before Peter went crazy and killed her, when she moved back here."

Oh... I was going to stop talking.

* * *

We didn't take a break.

I didn't ask for one.

I didn't _want _one.

We had been going for six hours straight, nonstop.

But I could feel both my wolf and fox getting antsy – mainly my fox –, trying to get out. But I held them back. I had to stay in control, no matter what.

I couldn't let them out!

I pushed myself past breaking point, not stopping even once it became a tiny little dot behind me. I was sweating, ready to collapse.

But I kept going.

Countless times Derek had asked if I wanted to stop, a couple of times he tried to force me to. But I wouldn't.

I _needed _to get this over with. I _needed _to be in control!

I couldn't live my life thinking that at any moment I could turn and hurt someone.

So I kept going.

"Stiles, you need to take a break." Derek said, stepping closer to me as we continued to spar.

"No." I panted, still dodging and dealing attacks.

Derek grabbed hold of both of my wrists, stopping me from doing anything.

"I mean it, Stiles. This won't help you to gain control." Derek growled.

"It will!" I shrieked, shaking all over.

"How do you know?"

"BECAUSE I _NEED_ IT TO!"

Now I didn't mean to. I honestly didn't mean to do it. But I really should have listened to Derek when he told me to take a break.

Why?

Well, after I yelled at Derek, I was suddenly no longer human. My fox had found his way out, turning me into my fox-self. The sudden change disrupted the control I could have over the different elements, causing a strong wind to flow into the room for a moment, making tables of weapons and punch bags fall to the ground, or be blown across the room.

One cabinet, one that held the sharper weapons, fell from behind me, landing on my back. If it was my wolf or half and half then I would have been fine, but because my fox was a lot smaller, it was harder to get the heavier stuff off of me...

Especially when I was finding it hard to shift back to normal.

My fox made a sound halfway between a distress call and a young fox crying, the sound motive enough for Derek to lift the heavy metal case off of my back.

I couldn't stand up.

The bones in my back had been damaged and it would take me _ages _to heal. As in, they wouldn't be healed until tomorrow, when I woke up. Even then my back would be badly bruised for a while.

Guess it was a bad that I knew that, huh?

* * *

Derek actually _carried _me into the living room, gingerly placing me onto the cushions of the armchair he usually sat on. I whimpered slightly as I was moved, curling up as soon as I wasn't being touched, my tail going under my head, paws tucked under.

"Why is there a fox in our living room?" Erica asked, walking in from the kitchen.

"Oh, it's so cute." Allison smiled.

The hunter came closer, but was stopped when Derek stretched out a hand.

"It's Stiles." he told them. "Don't ask questions. No one touch him until he's back to being human."

The two girls nodded, slowly, watching me. Yeah, it was a little surprising when you saw someone as a fox for the first time.

I liked being a fox though.

Red and white fur, black legs as well as the tips of my ears. My tail was fluffier than what it used to be when I was a kid, but I still looked a little like a fox cub. My mom loved it when I first turned into a fox. I was only five when I first turned into a fox. I was a cub at the time and dad was working. Mom practically squealed when she saw me. The noise startled me enough to change back and that was when mom picked me up, hugging me close. It was then that she told me what I was, what we both were.

I was excited to know that I was different and I understood right from the beginning that this was something I couldn't tell anyone. I was so excited that I accidentally wolfed out, getting mom to grin and hug me even tighter...

She didn't get to teach me anything though, since she had gotten ill when I was six. She was in and out of the hospital and I was always looking after her at home. She gave me a whole load of books for my tenth birthday, just five days before she died... It was as if she knew she wasn't going to be around any longer to actually teach me anything. But she had told me everything about being an Alpha wolf mixed with a fox, right from the moment she had fallen ill.

She knew somehow, so she tried to give me as much information as possible.

But it wasn't the same as having her here, being able to teach me.

I whimpered again, burying my face into my tail. To be honest, I was glad I couldn't turn back just yet. It meant that I couldn't cry.

* * *

I didn't realise I had fallen asleep until I woke up early hours of Sunday morning, still lying on Derek's armchair, a large and warm blanket covering me, pulled up to my neck.

I was back to being human now, no one dow...

Ok, lie; there was someone down here with me. Someone lying on the couch closest to me.

_Derek_.

Huh... No one had ever stayed with me, after I was injured, before.

Slowly, I sat up. Thankfully, my back had healed and the bruises had formed now, so I could walk. Though it would be painful.

Carefully, I stood up, wrapping the blanket around myself, shuffling over to the stairs.

It was agonisingly painful, moving with my back like this. But what was worse was walking up the stairs. I bit my lip as hard as I could to stop from screaming; only allowing myself to wince with every step I took.

And I had two flights of stairs to get up, as well as two hallways to walk down.

I would say this was hell, but I couldn't take that title away from my father's house.

* * *

By the time I got to the room I was using, I was panting and sweating. I closed the door as soon as I got in and pulled the blind down over the window, before letting the blanket fall to the ground.

Gasping slightly, warm tears falling silently over my cheeks, I pulled myself into the bathroom that was attached to the room – _I know!_ Closing that door, I turned so I could lean against it without hurting my back. Then, and only then, did I allow any sound to leave my mouth, allowed the tears to just fall freely, without restraint.

This would have never happened if I hadn't told dad I was gay.

No, correction, this would never have happened if I hadn't been _born_.

I remember once, after all the shit had started with my dad and I started thinking that, I actually had tried to end it all. Dad had stormed into my room while I attempted it... He was so pissed he actually locked me in the basement, keeping me there for days.

He did that _every_ time I tried, and eventually I just gave up trying.

There was no use trying now, I mean I doubted the wolves and Allison would actually let me get close to doing anything like that again...

I didn't bother wiping the tears off of my face; instead I just pushed off of the door – gently – walking over to the walk-in shower. As soon as I was in and had closed the glass door, I switched to water on before sitting on the tiled floor.

I couldn't stand up any longer; otherwise I would fall and hurt myself even more.

What I needed right now was for the hot water to work out the knots in my bed, so I could crawl into the soft bed and sleep until Monday morning.

Hopefully, by then, I would be able to walk without wanting to collapse and cry.

* * *

The drive to school on Monday just killed.

I was constantly moving about, trying to get comfortable, or at least in a position that didn't hurt my back... But it was impossible.

In the end I just gave up and drove.

It got to the point where I was actually happy to get out of the car and _walk_. Of course, I had forgotten that I was sporting a black eye and a cut on the head from Zane... Well, I _had _forgotten, until people started staring and whispering about them.

_If only they knew I could hear them..._

As soon as I was out of my Jeep, I stuck close to Isaac, Jackson, Danny and Scott as the five of us made our way to our Chemistry class. To say I had gone back to being jittery was an understatement... I was absolutely petrified, thinking that there was a possibility Zane could still being around.

Or worse: my _dad_ could be waiting to make an appearance.

Isaac was the first one to pick up on it, giving me a small smile and making sure I was between him and Scott, while Jackson and Danny were walking behind the three of us.

* * *

I thought I would be fine once I got into the class, since I was right at the back, against a wall. But I seemed to have forgotten that our teacher – Harris – was a fucking asshole. I swear, if he could, he would fail me without a moment's hesitation. Thank God he couldn't!

To be honest, I don't even know why I took Chemistry. Apart from the fact that I was good at it, there was no reason for me to actually take it! Well, there was the fact that I had to fill a space on my timetable, but _still_! Why did I have to pick it?!

So, because I was trying t drown out the sound of Harris' voice, I ended up thinking about Zane and that he could be anywhere.

He could be somewhere in the _school _for all I knew.

Scott, the closest wolf to me since he sat in front of me, turned around.

"Hey, dude, you ok?" Scott whispered. "You're heart's beating like crazy."

I was about to reply. I had opened my mouth and everything. But...

"_McCall! Stilinski! Turn around and shut up!"_

Like I said, Harris was an _asshole_!

* * *

The rest of my day pretty much went the same as when I had started it off: staying close to _at least _one person in the pack and looking out for Zane.

I tried to keep my mind off of him by drawing – doing more portraits of the Pack or my mom. It worked for the most part.

As I sat in my last lesson of the day – art, not that anyone in the Pack knew I took it – I sat there, continuing on with my project, thinking about what I found in the room I was using at the house that morning.

When I woke up I found, on the desk, more art supplies from Derek. Well, some were on the desk, two were resting against it. The two resting against the desk were a large sketching pad and a big canvas. Those on the desk were a range of _expensive _and _proper artist _sketch and coloured pencils, as well as paints and paintbrushes.

Seriously, this guy was giving me more than I ever had before...

Anyway, I was carrying on with my project for art.

I was doing a lot of little projects really that all came together to create the one big one. I was going to have ten pictures all together; eleven if you counted the one that would be in the middle that the other ten would branch off of, though the one in the middle was just writing in an arty way, to be honest.

But if it turned out the way I pictured it in my head, then it would be _awesome_!

"Wow, you're really good." a voice from beside me said.

It took everything I had not to jump and hurt my back. I turned to my left, looking towards the person that had spoken to me.

He was about my height – if I stood up. Blonde, green eyes, tanned skin... He basically had the typical surfer look about him. It was good looking, I guess. Nothing to call the media about. Definitely _wasn't _on Derek's level, this guy was _way _beneath that.

"Thanks." I muttered, turning back to what I was drawing.

"I'm Gabriel, but you can call me Gabe." he told me.

"Stiles. Though you probably knew that."

'Gabriel' sat on the desk, next to me and my work. Sighing slightly, I put my pencil down, leaning back – carefully – in my chair, crossing my arms.

"Stiles is quite an unusual name." Gabriel commented.

"Nickname. _No one _calls me by my real name, and no I'm not telling you." I told him, plainly.

"Oh, that's fine. I don't need to know it, Gorgeous."

"Don't call me that. And leave me alone."

Gabriel just grinned, probably thinking he was being charming. I wanted nothing more than for him to just piss off.

"Oh, come on, Angel, you don't mean that." Gabriel laughed, winking.

"Don't call me that." I growled. "Now, leave me alone. And if I have to say it again, I will get violent."

"Fine, fine. I'll see you around, Beautiful."

Gabriel walked away, out of the art room.

I did _not _get a good vibe off of that guy...

* * *

By the time I got back to the house, everyone was sitting in the living room. But none of them seemed as calm and relaxed as they usually did.

No, they were kind of panicking.

Frowning, I left my backpack by the stairs. I walked into the living room, clearing my throat to grab their attention.

"There you are, where have you... Oh my _God_, you're _bleeding_!" Lydia yelled.

I looked down at my shirt, seeing the red splattered across the material. Whoops...

I was bombarded with everyone asking me where I was and what happened and if I was alright. It was as if they had forgotten that I couldn't actually reply if they were yelling the whole time...

Peter seemed the first one to notice this, getting everyone to quieten down, before gesturing for me to speak.

"I was at the school." I explained. "Getting a little more of my project done. And this isn't blood."

"What is it then?" Derek growled, stepping closer.

"Paint."

There was silence for a minute.

"Paint." Jackson repeated. "Why are you covered in paint?"

"Because I take art, smart ass. Why else?"

"You take art, chemistry, English and music? They're strange choices."

I just shrugged.

* * *

Later that Monday afternoon, I was sitting outside, lying on the porch, looking up at the sky. Ever since I was a kid I loved to look up at the sky, just staring at the stars and the moon at night, and making pictures out of the clouds during the day.

Everything was so calm, so peaceful.

So it only made sense that I was attacked by some _creature_!

It had glowing eyes and had long sharp metal claws that he would use repeatedly slash his victims with. It had a mask fashioned of metal and like a helmet covered his head and also part of his face. The part of his face I could see though was horribly disfigured, bearing scars similar to that of a severe burn victim.

Only one creature came to mind.

_A Spring Heeled Jack._

I was on my feet within seconds, facing the beast.

I was going to have to be careful; a Spring Heeled Jack could breathe hot blue flames that he would use to stun people with prior to an attack. If I got a face full of flame, then I was screwed.

I snarled, claws lengthening, one eye glowing red while the other glowed purple, fangs starting to grow.

It was just as I was about to attack that the door opened, Peter and Derek stepping out onto the porch.

The Spring Heeled Jack turned, escaping using his tremendous jumping skills. Like, seriously, they were known to be able to jump great heights with extreme speed and ease into surprise attacks or away from the authorities.

"What, in the name God, was that?" Peter breathed.

Sighing, I de-clawed and de-fanged myself, my eyes still slowing, as I turned to face them.

_Great_, this was _just _what we needed – _he thought, sarcastically_.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


	17. My World

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 16**

**Stiles**

I couldn't turn my eyes back to normal, they just continued to glow red and purple. I couldn't stop from growling either. There was only one _Spring Heeled Jack _I knew out there, only one that would make himself known to me.

So I knew it was _him_.

There was only _one _that would be cocky enough to launch itself at me, but run the moment he saw I wasn't alone.

But it was hard _not _to recognise the _thing _that... _No_, I couldn't think about that now!

Growling even more, I had to push my slowly growing claws into the palms of my hand, trying to keep from turning. But it wasn't working like it usually did. The pain that usually kept me sane wasn't working.

I needed something bigger, something more...just _more_!

I could feel my half-wolf-half-fox ears start to sprout on the top of my head, I could feel my fox tail start to grown out from my tail bone. My fangs had reappeared without my noticing, pushing at my lower lip, which was most likely bleeding now.

I was shaking. Shaking because I was trying not to turn. Shaking because I felt so guilty. Shaking because I was _furious_! Shaking because this was one more _fucker _I was going to have to worry about!

The growling became louder as what little control I had started to slip. The metallic smell of blood became stronger as my claws continued to sharper.

But then a hand was on my shoulder.

I flinched at first, but I froze as soon as I realised that I was slowly going back to normal, I was slowly going back to being human.

No one had ever been able to do that before... And no one should be able to, unless they were..._no. _No, that couldn't be possible... I was going to have to read into this...

Taking a deep breath, I turned around, finding Derek standing directly behind me, frowning a little. _It couldn't be possible... _

"Stiles?" Derek asked, quietly, calmly.

Sighing, I leaned back against the wall, nodding a little. Derek stepped away, but he was still rather close, so I could see everyone else.

"What was it?" Isaac – _oh, the innocent little pup _– questioned, leaning further into Danny's side.

"Spring Heeled Jack." I spat. "I'm telling you now, that bastard has to be ripped apart, so I swear to God..."

"How do you know what it is?" Danny asked. "You didn't even look it up."

Rolling my eyes a little, I left the living room, sprinting up the stairs, paying no attention to the pain in my back.

* * *

"Where is it?" I muttered to myself. "Where is it?"

This is what bugged me about having to unpack: I couldn't find _anything_. I mean, I had hidden them so the others wouldn't find them, but now they knew what I was there wasn't much point in hiding them.

But I just needed to find where they were...

I had looked everywhere. In every draw, on ever shelf, in every box... There was _nowhere _else it could be.

Unless...

Mentally kicking myself, I dropped to the floor by the bed, reaching under it. It had to be there, it was the only place left. When I couldn't feel it, I pretty much slithered underneath it, the upper half of my body disappearing into the darkness.

"There you are." I grinned, pulling the box towards me as I heard footsteps reach the door.

Pushing myself back out from under the bed, I tried not to hit my head on it – that happened once... I made sure I was all the way out before I sat up, dragging the box, to my side as I leant against the side of the bed.

I was going to get up, so I could take the box back downstairs, but the Pack had decided that where we were was a fine place for me to tell them about this jerk.

"Look, I'll let the book tell you about this guy first, that way there will be less of a chance that I'll turn." I told them, digging out the right book and flipping to the right page. "_Then _I will tell you how I know him."

I placed the book down in front of them all, the group of ten reading it in two groups of four and one group of two. I already knew every word on that page... I read it so many times before that it was practically engrained in my memory:

_One of the most curious and persistent of all paranormal creatures is Spring Heeled Jack. Reports of his existence date back to the early 19th century in Sheffield, England, and he has been reported on and off in England and the US as recently as 1995. A similar apparition, called "La Viuda," or "the widow" was reported in Chile in the 1940s and 50s, though he seemed to have been motivated by theft as much as mischief. And while a decent case can be made that the legend of Spring Heeled Jack is nothing more than a series of cruel hoaxes, it would represent a conspiracy of impressive scope and durability. And while his story changes from source to source, it goes something like this…_

_In 1808, a letter to the editor of the Sheffield Times recounted how "Years ago a famous Ghost walked and played many pranks in this historic neighbourhood." The writer went on to identify this entity as the "Park Ghost or Spring Heeled Jack," and briefly described its ability to take enormous leaps and frighten random passers-by, but concluded, "He was a human ghost as he ceased to appear when a certain number of men went with guns and sticks to test his skin." _

_Spring Heeled Jack would often go underground when the going got too rough, and he often un-chivalrously pitted himself against women. In 1837, SHJ appeared to Polly Adams and two other women outside Blackheath Fair. With iron tipped fingers, he tore the blouse off of Adams and scratched her stomach before bounding into the darkness. According to some accounts, Adams described her assailant as "Devil-like," and according to others, she described him as a "pop-eyed" nobleman-perhaps Henry de la Poer Beresford, Marquis of Waterford. When in 1838, the Lord Mayor, Sir John Cowan publicized this and other assaults, he was besieged by letters by citizens who had suffered similar incidents but were too sheepish to make them public. Vigilante groups were formed to apprehend Jack, but he was quick, could leap over hedgerows and walls, and evaded them easily. After a while, the countryside attacked ended, the matter was dropped, and nobody was prosecuted._

_But later that year as Lucy Scales (or "Squires") and her sister walked home on a London street, Jack jumped out of the shadows and spat blue flames in her face, temporarily blinding her, then retreated into the darkness. This attack and others were widely reported by the press, so when Jane Alsop heard a knock at the door and the words, "I'm a police officer-for God's sake, bring me a light, for we have caught Spring Heeled Jack in the lane!" she ran outside eager to assist. She handed a candle to the tall, thin man standing at the gate, but though he wore a helmet and cloak like a police officer, when he took the light and drew it toward himself, Alsop could see he was wearing tight white oilskin clothing and had glowing red eyes. He spat blue and white flames at her, then pinning her head under one arm, began to tear at her face, neck, and clothing with his icy claws. _

_Alsop's sister, hearing screams, ran outside and dragged Jane into the house. Spring Heeled Jack waited at the door, and knocked several times, then fled when the help the girls called for finally arrived. He easily eluded them, but dropped his cape. It was picked up by an accomplice who also got away. Witnesses reported seeing Jack leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and even climbing a church steeple, throughout the rest of the year. He also tried the same trick he pulled on Jane Alsop, but the servant boy on the other side of the door called out for help and Jack left. _

_Then there were no Spring Heeled Jack sightings for an entire year; and for a while after that, they were sporadic and occurred mostly in the country. In 1842, prime suspect Marquis of Waterford married, settled in Ireland, and reportedly led and exemplary life. However, starting in 1843, a wave of Jack attacks occurred all over England, the most serious being the 1845 murder of thirteen year old prostitute Maria Davis. _

_Waterford died in 1859 when he was well into his sixties, but the attacks themselves did not abate. If anything, Jack became bolder. All through the 1870s, he slapped the faces of army sentinels with his clammy hand, jumped onto their sentry boxes, then bounced into the countryside. Townspeople shot at him and set traps, but SHJ laughed demoniacally and escaped every time. In pulp fiction, Jack was transformed from the villain to the hero who emerges from the darkness just in time to save the defenceless young maiden, or whatever. His popularity was such that the market was flooded with penny dreadfuls which exaggerated and distorted what facts were available to the writers, who fabricated many others. His story was even conflated into that of Jack the Ripper._

_Spring Heeled Jack was seen leaping up and down the streets and rooftops of Liverpool in 1904, then disappeared from England for close to seventy years. By that time, however, he had become notorious in the US. Jack's American visits were first reported in Louisville, KY in July of 1880. There, he was described as tall, having pointed ears, long nose and fingers, and was clad in a cape, helmet, and shiny uniform. He accosted women, tore at their clothing, and emitted flames from a blue light on his chest. _

_Between 1938-1945, he made dozens of appearances in the Cape Cod area of Massachusetts, though there he reportedly belched flames rather than ejecting them from his chest. In Provincetown, which I gather has seen no end of strange things; his leaping forced pedestrians off the pavement of a busy street. When a dog cornered him, the animal's owner blasted Jack with a shotgun, but "the darned thing just laughed and jumped my eight foot fence in one leap," the man told police. _

_A shadow was seen crossing a Houston lawn in 1953 by three people, who looked up to see a man bounce into a pecan tree. They described the man as either having wings or wearing tight clothes and a cape, being tall, and "encased in light." A moment later, he "just melted" into the darkness. Then a swooshing noise was heard over the rooftops, apparently made by a bright, torpedo like object._

_During the 1970s, Jack returned in both England and the US. In 1973 family in Sydney, NC reported a gaunt, long haired man with pointed ears and glowing red eyes, taking leaps they estimated at 50 or 60 feet. In 1979, more than a dozen residents of Plano, TX saw a creature, described as ten feet tall with pointed ears, cross a football field with just a few strides-like those taken by an astronaut on the moon. _

_Back in Sheffield, residents of Attercliffe began to complain about a red eyed "prowler" who grabbed women and punched men. Other witnesses saw him bounding between rooftops, and walking down the sides of walls. As in the old days, a group of armed men (police this time) chased and nearly trapped him, but he vanished into thin air and disappeared from the area. _

_Years later, in 1986, a former British army officer named Marshall was in South Herefordshire riding (presumably on a bicycle) on a quiet country road near the Welsh border. Motion in the fields to his left drew his attention, and he was astonished to see a man leaping over hedgerows in a single bound. The man reached the road and slapped Marshall hard enough to knock him to the ground and leave a red handprint on his face for hours. _

_The most recent record of a Spring Heeled Jack type creature comes from an elementary school in West Surry. Children only see him there, but they describe him as "all black, with red eyes and had a funny all in one white suit with badges on it." They also said he could run as fast as a car, and would approach dark haired children and tell them, "I want you."_

Yeah, a lot of reading, I know. Especially for that douche.

After they had all finished reading, everyone turned to me. Now I just had to stay calm. Of course, it was then that I realised that Derek had strategically placed himself next to me. Taking a deep breath, I stared down at the book that had been placed into the centre of our group again.

"When I was nine, a year before my mom died, I was visiting family." I told them, quietly. "I was at the park with my cousins, aunts and uncles; it was what we always did. I was had run after the soccer ball one of my cousins had kicked a little too far when this guy with a helmet came up to me and said those three little words that you read last in that book."

I didn't look up; I didn't want to see the pity in the eyes of those who had guessed the end of my story.

"I picked up the ball and ran, hoping that my wolfy-foxy speed would be enough to get me away from him, even at a young age." I continued. "In the end he gave up on me. I didn't know how fast he was, or how high he could jump, until then, since by the time I got back to where my cousins and aunts and uncles were... Well, he had killed them all. Used his blue flame breath and sliced them all open."

I let out a shaky breath, curling my hands into fists, trying to stay calm, even as the images flashed through my mind.

"I was left there, screaming and crying, trying to get them to wake up, getting _their blood _all over me. The police were called, and they took me to the station so I could wait for my mom and dad to pick me up." I finished. "The youngest one that died that day was only a few months older than me. That is, of course, if you _don't _count the child that was two months away from being born. And it was all my fault."

* * *

Derek and I went back to training the next day, after school. He had used the awesome wolfy take-pain-away power to, well; take the pain in my back away. It was lovely!

"Are you going to listen to me this time?" he huffed, shrugging out of his shirt.

"Yes, now can we get on with this, please?" I sighed. "I _promise_ I'll be a good little boy and follow the Alpha's _every_ order."

"Enough of the sass."

"You don't control me."

Derek, honest to God, had to take a minute to calm down. It surprised me really. Back in Dallas, with dad and Zane, they just took their anger out on me, never taking a minute to calm themselves down at all.

It was a welcomed change, but it was so strange to get used to.

Once he had calmed down, we did exactly what we had done before. Fight until I got frustrated with myself or until Derek said stop.

Even though I always wanted to carry on after he said to take a break, I remembered the pain that shot through me when the cabinet fell on my back.

"I'm sorry for kind of destroying this place on Saturday." I said, looking around the training room during one of our breaks.

Whilst I had been out cold, the wolves had righted the place, fixing anything that had been broken, picking things up... If I hadn't been otherwise occupied, then I would have lent a hand...

"It wasn't your fault." Derek grumbled, grabbing a bottle of water.

"Oh, yeah, because using my foxy magic to create a wind in an enclosed space wasn't my fault." I muttered, sarcastically.

Next thing I knew? My back was having a _very _nice first meeting with the wall.

I saw it coming, so it didn't surprise me that Derek had done it, or that he was snarling in my face. It didn't even hurt!

"Will you shut up!" Derek growled. "I have better things to do than to listen to you hate yourself! Now, I said I would train you. And I will. I just won't put up with your self-loathing shit!"

As best I could, I raised my hands in a sign of surrender, not letting out any snarky comments that were burning my tongue.

I knew how to pick my battles.

* * *

Derek was in a rather foul mood all day really. He was glaring at everything and everyone. Whenever I asked someone, they would just shrug and say '_that's Derek_'. But this was a complete contrast to the Derek I had known before.

But then I had only known him for almost two months, whilst these people had known him for years... And I should know that people can change dramatically.

But I couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

I shook my head when that thought came across my mind, instead heading upstairs to the room I had been given.

For some reason, that room had started to become a place I enjoyed being. It was quiet, had a few items that belonged to me, it was spacious... It was a nice place. And no one really came in unless they knocked and you let them in – though some just settled for knocking and walking in.

Walking in myself, I couldn't help but give a little smile. This was actually _mine_. It was _mine, _even if I couldn't say it.

Sure, I had a room back at my dad's house, in Dallas. But it stopped being mine the moment I got the courage to tell my father I preferred the same sex. It stopped being mine the moment he started beating me. It stopped being mine the moment he started to leave me chained in the basement some days.

But now I had one again. A space to call my own. I didn't know how to react to that...

Letting out a small breath, I pushed the door to – not closing it – and went over to the desk. My art supplies – kindly provided by Alpha Sourwolf – were set up on the top, some in the draws. The window it faced gave me a wonderful view of the forest, letting me watch the wind softly blow through the trees, or see the sun break through the small gaps between the leaves.

This had to be my favourite spot in the whole room – aside from the nice, comfy bed.

It was nice to be able to look out of the window as I thought about what to draw, or what colour to use, or something. It was calming to just look out and find inspiration.

I guess that sounds weird, huh? But it was true. It helped. It also helped that the people I lived with gave me something to base my drawings on.

Picking up my pencil, I put the sharp point to the paper and started dragging it lightly; making faint lines that would soon take form into people. And now that I had some rather large canvases – again, kindly provided by Alpha Sourpants – I could start on the idea I had for a while. The one that I couldn't do until I had something larger to draw on.

I grabbed one of the canvases, placing it on the floor – it was too big for the desk – grabbing my 4H artist pencil. Now that Derek had taken the pain out of my back, I was able to bend down or lean over things, meaning I could actually get started on this.

I just hoped it would look good.

* * *

The next day – Wednesday 6th – I was just leaving art, heading towards Chemistry.

Since starting the project back in October, on the fifteenth – so twenty two days ago, I had gotten four drawings outlined. I still had six more to do, and that wasn't including the writing for the middle. But, getting that done in only thirteen lessons. And it didn't have to be handed in for a couple more months.

I was feeling good about my project though, it was turning out better than I had hoped so far. I mean, it was looking great, even if I did say so myself.

I was to busy thinking about my art work that I didn't notice anyone in front of me...well, until I walked into them, that is. The collision sent both of us to the ground, but luckily nothing was lost or scattered across the floor.

"Sorry, I..." I started, as I stood up.

"Don't be sorry, Hot Stuff." Gabriel's voice chuckled. "You can run into me any time."

Groaning quietly, I rolled my eyes. Of course it would be this asshole.

"Stop with those _God awful _names." I growled. "You call me Stiles, and that is it."

"_Stiles!" _I heard Isaac call.

Seriously, Isaac was awesome! This was the _second _time he's helped me out, and this time he didn't even realise it!

The pup bounded over to me, lifting his backpack higher onto his shoulder. He was grinning, as always, and pulling Danny behind him. They both stood there, next to me, Gabriel in front of us... Hopefully this meant the ass would turn around and leave.

"You coming to chemistry?" Isaac asked, still smiling. "You know Harris won't hesitate to put you in detention for a week if you're late."

"I'd be lucky if it was just a week." I sighed. "Why did they even let him become a teacher?"

"We all have our own theories." Danny chuckled. "Now, come on. We don't want to be late."

Grinning, I made to follow Isaac and Danny as the two started to walk off hand in hand. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy to get away from Gabriel now, would it?

No.

Instead, he decided to follow me and carry on talking.

"So, can I have your number, Lover Boy?" Gabriel smirked, walking too close for comfort.

"Haven't got a phone." I muttered, putting at least a foot between us, walking faster. "And seriously, stop with the names."

I almost ran to catch up with Isaac and Danny.

* * *

After school, everyone pulled up to the house at the same time. And, of course, the topic of conversation was Gabriel and me. Isaac and Danny had decided that telling Scott and Jackson was the best thing to do. That, in turn, meant it was spread to the girls and Boyd...

So, now they all decided that it was only fair to go on and on and on and _on _about it. I was not amused.

"Will you guys just leave it?" I sighed, walking through the front door as fast as I could. "It's nothing!"

"Nothing?!" Erica shrieked. "This is _so not _nothing! He's one of the hottest guys in school and he's talking to you!"

"I don't care!"

"What's this?" Derek huffed, appearing from the living room with Peter.

Rolling my eyes, I dumped my backpack on the stairs, before sitting on the second one myself. I rested my elbows on my knees, bending forward slightly. Thanks to Derek and the awesome werewolf take-pain-away powers, my back was _great_!

"Just some guy that can't take a hint and fuck off." I said. "He keeps talking to me, standing _way _too close, and I don't like it.

"You should make friends!" Scott laughed.

"God knows you need more than just us." Jackson muttered – earning an elbow to the ribs from Lydia.

Groaning, I rubbed my hands over my face, dragging them down my cheeks, while shaking my head.

"I'm good, thanks." I told them.

"Well, make a boyfriend then." Danny suggested.

"I don't date. I'm content to be alone. With my forty cats. Wait, no! I hate cats, cats hate me. Make that forty dogs. Dogs love me."

* * *

It was late that night when the eleven of us, plus Chris Argent, were out in the forest, looking for Spring Heeled Jack. We were the only ones that knew what we were dealing with and the only ones who _could _deal with it. We were the only ones for the job.

I had explained to the wolves what the scent was like: something burning, metal and blood.

It was a horrible smell, especially when you had heightened senses... I shuddered just thinking about it.

"So, why is this guy after you?" Chris asked, as we all moved through the trees.

"To finish the job?" I shrugged. "I'm not to sure and, to be honest, I don't care. I just want it dead."

I guess Peter and Derek knew what it was like, losing your family and wanting revenge. Well, I assumed the fire was started by someone and not an accident. Not that I asked. I did want my throat in one piece.

"Do me one favour though, guys?" I said. "Only wound it. I want to tear it apart."

* * *

Now, it was easy finding the bastard... The hard part was trying to inflict some damage. Like, seriously, it would jump over us and into the trees, dropping behind us.

I had warned everyone about the blue flame, so they knew not to let it get close enough to breathe on them.

But it was harder to keep an eye on the douche and keep him in front of us, when he was using his super-ass powers.

At this point, Allison and Chris were the only ones left looking human. The rest of us had turned – I was in my half and half state, Derek in his Alpha. It was strange seeing the wolves in their werewolfy forms, especially Derek gone full wolf. The only people I had seen like it was my mom and me... It was kind of nice to know that I was only half the freak I thought I was – because of my foxy-fox.

A few of us did get in a few swings, Allison hit it a couple of times with her crossbow... But overall? Well, overall it got away, but not before leaving us all a little present.

We didn't realise until – human – Derek started to collapse. Since I was the closest, I rushed forward to keep him upright.

One look to everyone else was all I needed to tell them we needed to get back to the house.

* * *

Since I was the one keeping Derek standing and I was the only one who knew about this asshole, I was the one that was given the job of helping Derek clean up. It was a silent delegation that was given to me by the wolves, but I knew it was going to be me.

So, I got Derek up the stairs and into the bathroom, getting him to sit on the, closed, toilet seat. I helped him take off his shirt, since the wound was on his stomach, making sure that I didn't hurt him in the process. I mean, just because he was being grumpy lately didn't mean he deserved to be in pain.

Along his stomach were five claw marks, dragging from the left side of his chest to his right hip. They would heal over and not scar in no time, but it would take a short while before that happened.

After running a dark cloth under some water, I held it up so Derek could see it. Again, I didn't want him ripping my throat out because I had hurt him. He nodded once before I put the wet cloth to his skin, clearing up the blood stuck to his skin, carefully going over the wounds.

The only sounds that Derek made were these quite grunts, and – occasionally – these little whimpering sounds. Both my wolf and fox whined at me, telling me to do something to stop his pain, to help him. This was the first time, ever since my mom died, that they had done that. They hadn't done that for anybody else before, not even my dad back when he was an alright guy...

_I really need to read up about this._

When I noticed that he had stopped bleeding and that the blood had been cleaned off of him, I grabbed the bandage off of the side and wrapped it around his torso, pulling it tight. Once it was in place and I made sure it would hold, I packed the bandages back into the first aid kit and threw the cloth into the hamper, while Derek threw his t-shirt into the bin in one easy throw.

"Thank you." he mumbled before starting to walk out of the bathroom.

Of course he made it halfway before he started to fall again.

It was a good thing I was quick.

I helped Derek get into his room, this being the first time I had seen it. It looked a lot like mine actually, the only difference being there were no desk and no picture on his bedside table.

I helped the Alpha wolf sit down on the edge of the bed, grabbing the clothes chucked at the end and passed them to him. I guess it was a good thing that he could get changed by himself.

"Thank you." I heard as I made my way out of Derek's room. "Again."

* * *

Saturday 9th November, I was sitting downstairs, in the living room, sketching again. It was one of my new sketch pads, the ones with all my drawings of the Pack and my mom. I was alone, since everyone else was still asleep.

I had already made breakfast and it was sitting, ready for them, on the table, a fresh pot of coffee brewing as we speak. I had already eaten, a glass of apple juice on the coffee table in front of me, as I concentrated on the paper and pencil I was holding.

I had taken the pencil away for a second when the pad of paper was snatched out of my hands.

Looking up, I found Peter walking back into the kitchen, flipping to the start of the book. I scrambled up to my feet to follow him, freezing when I found everyone in the kitchen, my sketch pas now in the middle of the table, all of them looking at what I had drawn and flipping through the pages.

I just stood there, in the doorway, not able to move as they looked at my artwork. They were the first people, besides my mom, to see the things I had created by using paper and a pencil. The only ones to see these drawings.

I just stood there, in my sweatpants and Batman t-shirt – aka pyjamas – wringing my hands together, shuffling awkwardly.

"You drew us." Boyd commented, after a while.

"You drew us _very_ well." Lydia smiled.

"You're a really good artist, Stiles." Erica nodded.

I moved then. Moving forward and grabbing my sketch pad, closing it and holding it close to my chest.

"Please stop looking at everything I draw." I mumbled, quietly.

I didn't wait for them to reply as I walked back into the living room.

* * *

The moment I decided to take my sketch pad back upstairs, was the moment everyone had finished breakfast. I thought that all I was doing was walking up the stairs, singing to a song inside of my head, bobbing my head along to the music.

Only, when I came back down, still singing the song in my head...

"Stiles, what the hell is that song?" Isaac asked. "You keep humming it.

Ok, maybe not in my head then...

"You never heard of it?!" I demanded, eyes widening slightly.

At the shake of Isaac's head, I started to turn back towards the stairs, only to realise I had nothing to use to show him.

So, instead, I walked back into the living room.

"Yo, Danny." I said, popping my head round the doorframe. "Can I borrow you laptop? Or phone? Need to look up this song for the pup."

I heard an indignant '_hey_' come from Isaac, while I just grinned at the pup. Look, he was the youngest _and _a werewolf...he was a pup.

"Wait... You don't have a phone?" Erica asked.

"I just thought you didn't want to give us your number..." Scott mused.

"Yeah... No." I laughed, slightly nervously. "I was in a rush when I left Dallas...couldn't grab much, you see. Laptop and phone weren't high on my list, I mean, they can be tracked."

After a minute of silence, Danny silently gestured towards his laptop on the coffee table. Sending a quick '_thanks_' his way, Isaac and me walked towards it, kneeling on the floor once we reach it.

Going onto YouTube, I typed in: _sick puppies my world lyrics_

'_My World_'_ was_ the name of the song, a good song at that. I was thirteen when I first heard it, the video popping up at the side while I was listening to another song on YouTube. I thought it was quite a good song, personally...

"_I'm not comin' back  
I'm not gunna react  
I'm not doin' shit for you.  
I'm not sittin' around while you are tearin' it down around us.  
I'm not livin' a lie while you swim in denial  
'Cause you're already dead and gone  
You leave me out on the curb just like everyone else before you_"

I couldn't help but sing along... It was catchy...

"_Welcome to my world  
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone.  
Another lesson burned  
And I'm drowning in the ashes  
Kicking  
Screaming  
Welcome to my world_"

Of course the chorus was the catchiest bit...

"_I don't care what you think I'm not seeing a shrink.  
I'm not doing this again.  
I'm not another student or a mother to take your shit out on  
So let's see what you got, let's see what you're not  
And whatever else you pretend  
You've defended my intentions long enough_"

I didn't even think that Derek and Peter were the only ones that had heard me sing until today, I just kept singing...

"_Welcome to my world  
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone._  
_Another lesson burned  
And I'm drowning in the ashes  
Kicking  
Screaming  
Welcome to my world_"

It really was a great song...

"_So here I am again.  
In the middle of the end.  
And the choice I wish I made  
I always make too late_"

The perfect song for me, if I was being honest...

"_Welcome to my world  
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone.  
Another lesson burned  
And I'm drowning in the ashes  
Kicking  
Screaming  
Welcome to my world._"

I mean, everyone I need end up leaving me alone, whether it be because the world takes them from me, or because they turn on me.

"_My world  
My world (welcome to my world)  
My world  
My world (welcome to my world)  
My world  
Welcome baby._"

I only figured out that I had been singing to this out loud when I noticed them all staring at me, wide eyed and smiling.

Sighing slightly, I sat on the floor properly, waiting for them all to start talking.

"If you think that was good, you should hear him play guitar too." Peter smirked, laughing slightly.

_Stupid Zombie-wolf!_

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	18. What I'm Thankful For

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe), Chase, Jonah, Simon, Sam.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 17**

**Stiles**

Sunday – 10th November – I was the first one up again. The DVDs that had been put out on Halloween were still sitting by the TV. They wouldn't mind if I watched one. Right?

To be honest, I thought there would be nothing there. Nothing else that I wanted to watch besides the Disney films we watched after Zane left the house. But I discovered long ago that I can't watch them by myself, I have to have _at least _one other person with me. And then I found one. I hadn't seen it in nine years...

It was the 1939 film of _The Wizard of Oz. _I used to love watching it, singing along with the munchkins. Of course, that was when I was ten, almost eleven. Back when I could actually do the things I loved to do without question and without fear of being hit for it.

Shrugging, I put the disc into the DVD player before turning to sit on the couch. As always, I skipped all the adverts, heading straight to the DVD menu. I pressed play as soon as I could, like I always did. I don't know why but if I started listening to the music on the DVD menu then I ended up spending half an hour listening to it over and over again. I don't actually know why that happened to me; all I know is that it happened if I started listening to it.

So I was a music junkie, sue me.

I reclined back into the cushions smiling slightly as the movie started.

And if I sang along with a few of the songs as the movie went on, well then that was my business...

* * *

I had gotten to the bit where Dorothy and company had arrived at the Emerald City, when the first of ten showed their faces. Isaac yawned as he climbed onto the couch, curling into a little ball. Eyes open just enough so he could see, face turned towards the TV.

"Mornin'." he mumbled.

"Mornin', Pup." I chuckled, watching as he screwed his face up at the name.

"Everyone else still sleep?"

It was like as if Isaac saying that a silent alarm went off in everyone's brains, since one by one, within the space of two minutes, the other nine sleepily made their ways down the stairs.

"They are now." I muttered.

I turned back to the movie playing as everyone piled into the living room. Danny, Scott and Allison squeezed onto the same couch as Isaac and me. I thought for sure one of them was going to touch me. I mean, the couch was large enough for four people to sit on with some space between them, but not five.

I was just about to move when Danny dragged a still tired Isaac onto his lap. Like, seriously, the kid had his side to Danny's chest, head under his chin, curled up into the tiniest ball he could go into, burying as close as he could into his boyfriend. The guy even had one of Danny's hoodies on. Danny just grinned, wrapping Isaac in his arms, pulling the kid closer and pressing his face into the blonde's hair.

It was sickeningly cute.

* * *

We had gotten to the part in the movie where we see all of the flying monkeys. Those little guys were both freaky _and _awesome! I mean, come on! _Monkeys _with _wings_?! Who came up with this shit?!

I huffed a quiet laugh as I thought of someone looking at a bird and a monkey, trying to fuse their DNA together by any means possible. I mean, sure, it wasn't a pretty picture, but it was funny.

And then Isaac just had to let this one thing slip out of his mouth.

"Why can't the evil monkeys have a dance party in this movie?" he yawned. "It would be funny and they would be less scary looking then."

"Dude, yes!" I grinned. "Greeny would be all '_Dance for me minions, dance!_' It would be so cool! I mean, can you imagine having your own army of flying monkeys and getting them to do whatever you wanted? You wouldn't have to worry about cleaning or anything, and on the weekends: _DANCE PARTY_! Oh, man, I wished that actually happened in this now. Someone needs to remake this movie and make the evil flying monkeys have a dance party. Like, right now!"

Everyone just blinked at me, some amused and some still processing what I was saying. Isaac just beamed up at me, extending his fist, waiting for me to bump it with my own... I couldn't leave the kid hanging when he looked so much like a pup...

"I thought you only did that when you're nervous." Derek said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Sourwolf, I said it's _worse _when I'm nervous." I told him, still grinning. "It happens sometimes, especially when I get excited or happy or whatever."

"You know, Stiles, you should smile more." Allison commented. "It suits you."

I don't think I could have helped the colour that rose to my face then. No one had ever said that to me... I hadn't even realised just how much I had actually smiled around these guys until then. Even since I was fourteen, I've rarely smiled. But now? I live with this lot for almost two months and I'm smiling again.

* * *

It was later that Sunday that I was up in my room.

_I did it again. My room..._

I had grabbed the large canvas that I had started using, adding more to the picture I was slowly developing. It was actually coming together better than expected, if I was being completely honest. I mean, sure, I didn't get everything right on the first go, but it was starting to look good.

"Hey, Stiles, what you doing, man?" Scott asked, walking in after knocking on the door.

"God, your turning into Erica, dude." I complained – in no way did I whine...

"Oi! I resent that."

"Well, then don't just walk in after you knock, wait for me to open the door."

"Whatever, so, what are you doing?"

Now, I could do one of two things. Number One: tell Scott what I was doing and hope he doesn't tell the others. Number Two: be an ass and make him wait.

Now, see, I _really _liked number two. And at least then he couldn't ruin the surprise by telling everyone exactly what I was doing. All he would know is I was drawing something, on a canvas, that none of them could know about.

Yeah, sounded pretty good to me.

"You're gunna have to wait and see, just like the other boys and girls." I smirked.

"What?! Why?!" he whined.

"Maybe 'cause I said so? It should be finished sometime next month or the month after."

"I don't wanna wait that long!"

"Tough. Now out, or you'll never find out."

I would be lying if I said Scott went out easily. I mean, I had to practically push him out of the door.

At least, this time, I remembered to lock it before going back to the canvas on the floor.

* * *

That night, I pulled out the box of books from under my bed, rummaging through it until I found an old, dark red cover. It was the only one in the box that looked like that, so I didn't have to worry about it being the wrong one.

So, placing it on the bed beside me, I shoved the box back under my bed, before pushing myself up. I lay on my stomach, pillow underneath me, laying the book on the covers in front of me. Flipping to the section I had read a once since I had received it from my mother.

_**Page 394: Mates **_

I didn't know much about Mates and what they meant for someone like me, or a werewolf – this book referred to the werewolf side of me, since my mom and me were the only half and half's really... But, apparently, they were important. I couldn't remember anything this passage had told me, since I was only eleven when I had first read it and I've had some pretty good hits to the head ever since then.

But I remembered vague things. And ever since I started having those weird moments with Derek and starting to feel like..._this _about him... Well, I just have to look into it more! I mean, that couldn't be right. Right?

Derek couldn't be my...my _Mate_. Could he? Frowning a little, I got to reading.

It took me only a few minutes to read the whole chapter on Mates – it wasn't exactly large. I closed the book and put it away in the box before leaning back, until my back hit the mattress.

Apparently a Mate will become protective, often feeling a responsibility towards the other – especially if one is a few years younger. They will usually give a place to live if it was in need, providing comfort or companionship when needed, defending their Mate if they were being threatened.

Basically, most things that Derek had done for me were signs of being a Mate.

I had no idea if there was anything there that I had done; I mean, you never notice the things you do. But all evidence pointed towards Derek and me...being _Mates_.

_But that can't be right?! Can it?_

* * *

Everything went as it usually did for the next few days. And then came Thursday 14th.

It was during my longest free period of the day that I went to the local library, not too far from the university. I had been there a few times when I was living in my Jeep, to do assignments, but today I went for what libraries were known for.

Books.

Not books for school or anything, just books for me to read.

It was all good and fine as I looked down the fiction section, trying to find anything that jumped out at me. When...

_**BAM! **_

Got hit right in the eye.

Now even though it was hard to hurt werewolves if you were human, it was very easy to hurt were-foxes. And, since I was both, it put me half way between the two, meaning anything could hurt me, really. I mean, sure, my attacker would be hurt from the impact too, but it still hurt me.

My head snapped back, from the initial impact of the hit, my vision going black for a moment, before righting itself again.

Standing in front of me was Jonah. A red headed, brown eyed guy in Chase's little group of homophobic thugs. He was the newest to the group, apparently, but that didn't make it any harder for him to join in the 'fun'.

"Problem?" I sighed, dropping my backpack to the ground.

So I guess he thought replying with words wasn't as fun as punching me again. But I saw it coming this time, so I dodged it.

What I didn't see coming was two people coming up behind me and restraining me.

Simon and Sam – twins, and the other two in Chase's group of thugs – held me back, giving Jonah the advantage. Of course, things like this just reminded me of Dallas.

Being pinned down, on my stomach, on the floor.

Arms chained behind me in the basement.

Multiple bruises and cuts.

When I remembered all of that, I ended up being too weak to fight back. All because I thought it was either Zane of my dad doing this to me, and no one else. If I wasn't being restrained I would have been fine, because I knew there was only one person and I could see them and I knew I could fight them off.

But not this time.

Jonah was getting ready to collide his fist with my stomach again, the grip on my arms from the other two tightening. My eyes had already closed; it was easier that way...

But the hit never came. The grip on my arms had disappeared. And I had fallen to the ground.

_Huh? _

And then I heard a growl. I knew that growl. I heard it before. Well, not as much as Derek's, but I knew it.

_Jackson._

By the time I opened my eyes, Jackson had already sent Simon and Sam running, and had Jonah pinned to the floor, whispering something to him. His voice was so low that even my advanced hearing couldn't hear him. Though that probably had something to do with the ringing in my ears as well.

When Jackson actually let the guy up off of the floor, Jonah bolted towards the door, not looking back once. The blonde Beta walked over to my while this happened, extending a hand to help me up. Hesitantly, I took it.

Once I was standing again, I leant against a nearby table, taking a moment for the pounding in my head to disappear. I knew it would only take a minute or two. It was only the visible wounds that took longer to heal. I mean, the bruises on my back, from where that cabinet fell on it, were still there! Though, thanks to Derek, there was still no pain.

"You helped me..." I said.

Jackson just shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Well, you're not a bad guy." the blonde muttered. "You couldn't be after everything you've done. You know, for Isaac and Danny...and Allison."

"So, helping me is your way of saying...?" I started to ask.

"My way of saying I'm sorry I judged you. Want me to stay in case those assholes come back?"

"Nah, I'm good."

Jackson nodded as he turned to walk back to the entrance of the library.

"Hey, Jackson." I said, quietly, knowing he could hear me. "Thank you."

A slight tilt of his head was all I needed to know that he had heard me.

I knew it; he was a big softie really...

* * *

By the time I got back to the house, I had – around – fifteen books with me. Since I had no watch or phone, I had no idea what the time was... But since it was pitch black outside, I was going to take a guess at late... I would have tried to sneak into the house, like I usually did back in Dallas...but that was hard to do when you were living with nine werewolves.

As soon as I had stepped into the house they were all standing there, in the hallway. The girls had their hands on their hips, Derek and Peter had gone for crossing their arms, while the other guys just went for leaning casually.

Sighing, I shifted my backpack higher on my shoulder, adjusting the grip I had on the books I wasn't able to fit in there.

"I know, I know, it's late." I told them. "But, in my defence, I didn't know what the time was."

With that one sentence, everyone just kind of deflated, realising that they no longer had any argument.

I pretty much had to hide my smirk, knowing that I had won.

"What _is_ all that?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow – that _had_ to be a Hale thing, I swear!

"Books." I shrugged, smiling slightly.

Before anyone could speak – and ask me why I had a black eye – I was already halfway up the stairs.

* * *

The next day – Friday, November 15th – I walked out of the Principal's office in a rage.

I had dug the claws that had sprouted into the palms of my hands, trying to keep from doing anything rash or hitting out at anyone. Especially that asshole _Chase_!

More and more people had avoided me when they saw me in such a state. Even _Gabriel _decided it was best to leave me alone right now, instead of risk being torn to shreds.

Lessons hadn't even started yet, so the wolves and Allison had spotted me, the nine of them following me out into the empty parking lot. As soon as I got out into the open space, I ran towards the nearest wall, yelling as I put my first through the brick.

The intense pain helped to ground me, my claws retracting. But it did nothing but fuel my anger.

I faintly heard Lydia tell someone to go to the main office and tell them that they would all be late to their class, possibly missing out on the first and second, telling them to say that there was a 'family emergency'.

"Stiles?" Scott asked from somewhere behind me. "What happened?"

"Fucking Chase is what happened!" I roared. "I swear, I'm going to teach that little shit a fucking lesson!"

"What did he do?"

"Look, can we just leave. If we stay here, I'm going to go back in there and rip his head off."

"Give me the keys to your Jeep."

"Why?"

"You're in no state to drive, right now."

* * *

Scott chucked me the keys as soon as we stepped out of my Jeep, once we had pulled up outside the house.

As soon as we walked through the door, I chucked my backpack towards the stairs, the handle catching on the banister, dangling off the wooden bar. I didn't even look to see if it stayed – years of practice told me it would –, I just stormed into the living room, throwing myself down onto the couch, face first.

"Didn't we get rid of you all for the day?" Peter asked, smirk evident by his tone, as he strutted – he always does that – into the living room.

"Shut up, stupid Zombie-wolf." I muttered into the pillow under my face.

"What did you do?" Derek sighed, joining us.

In a moment, I had flipped over, eyes both flashing red to purple, a growl ripping from my throat.

"I did nothing!" I spat. "Chase is just an immature ass, who thinks getting me suspended is funny!"

Everyone just kind of went quiet for a moment.

As they stood there, I pretty much pushed past Derek, out of the living room, and practically sprinted towards the training room. If I stayed, I would have put my first through something or some_one_. And I didn't want that. No one wanted that.

* * *

They all appeared five minutes later.

I was still shirtless; moving to different things to see if that would quell my anger. But nothing would. So I just kept going round and round and round.

I could feel the sweat rolling down my neck and bruised back, dripping from my chin onto my slightly defined abs. The trails would change from how much I was moving or shaking, depending if I was standing still or not. But, either way, I was going to need a long shower after this...

"I told myself it was going to be different here. That I was going to keep my head down, not let anyone or anything distract me from my work. Just stay a loner, just like I've always been." I told them. "But then _Chase _decides that it's too much for me to ask to get a good education. So he goes around the school, pinching money from most teachers without them noticing, and then having the nerve to blame it on me."

I ended up punching the punch back so hard that it tipped and skidded to a stop in front of all of them.

Running hands through my hair and gripping it so tight I thought that chunks were going to start falling out, I moved over to the practice dummy.

"You know what they did? They asked me to leave the premises and not come back until December second!" I scoffed. "Seventeen days of sitting on my ass, doing nothing, when I actually want to do something with my life! I'm not allowed on the school grounds until December _fucking_ second, all because that little _jackass _has it out for me! _Hell_, they didn't even question me about it, they just believed that _asshole_!"

I froze for a moment as I heard the sound of them all shuffling a little from foot to foot.

_No... No. You've got to be kidding!_

I turned to face them slowly; my eyes now back to their usual colour.

Instead of feeling angry, I just felt defeated.

"You believe him, don't you?" I asked, slowly and quietly.

They all looked down. That was the only answer I needed.

The people that I had been living with didn't believe me. After all they had found out about me, from me and not my stupid records, after everything that's happened so far...they believe Chase and not me.

This was one of the reasons why I don't let people in. They never have your back.

My shoulders slumped as I picked up my shirt and walked out of the room, ignoring the soft calls of my name. If the people that had taken me in, been helped by me and knew half of what I had been through didn't believe me...who would?

* * *

**Derek**

We watched as Stiles trudged towards the stairs, looking...beaten. I could feel that everyone slightly believed that this '_Chase_' was telling some form of the truth...but I couldn't help but to be sceptical.

I sent my Beta's back to the university, while Peter just went out into the woods as normal. I, on the other hand, went to my room.

I had a fully functional computer. Sure, it might not be one that many people would love, but it worked and got the job done. And that job? Hacking into the schools security camera footage.

Danny had shown me a few tricks, meaning I could keep an eye on them all if something particularly bad was happening, making sure nothing happened to any of them. As the Alpha, it was my responsibility to look after them all, even Peter, no matter if he was older than me. It was my duty.

Stiles was Pack. He may not know it yet, the others may not know it yet, _hell _I might not even accept it yet, but he was Pack. I looked out for my Pack.

Besides, there was something about that kid that made my wolf howl.

It had never happened to me before, but my wolf was just telling me to protect the kid. I thought that the feeling would go, but it only got stronger the longer he was around. It frustrated me, not knowing what was going on. And it wasn't like I could ask Peter. He would laugh and tell me to figure it out for myself, no matter how much I threatened him. He knew I would follow through with it.

As soon as I had gotten past all the necessary barriers, I manoeuvred my way through the footage.

It was rather interesting what I found.

* * *

**Stiles**

I didn't realise I had fallen asleep until I woke up Saturday morning.

I spoke to no one, ignored them all if they tried to speak to me. Well, all accept Derek. He was the only one that seemed to believe me, I could tell. I don't know how, but I could always tell if someone believed me or a lie... Ever since I was a kid I could. I asked my mom if it was because of what I was, what we were. She said no, that it was just something I could do.

It was sometime after dinner, when I was washing the dishes, that Erica waltzed into the kitchen. She just hopped up onto the counter, slicking her hair over her shoulder and looking at her nails.

_Eugh, girls..._

"So, Derek seems to like you, huh." she said casually. "He looked at the security footage from the school. Kicked up a right fuss when he found out you had done nothing."

Wait, he did what now?!

"Yeah, I think he almost punched a guy..." she continued. "He must _really _like you, _Batman_. I mean, he doesn't do that for just _anybody_."

With that she jumped off the counter, grabbed a soda from the fridge and left the kitchen.

Well, that wasn't expected...

* * *

That night, I pulled out the books that I grabbed from the library on Friday.

Seven of the fifteen that I had borrowed were the Harry Potter books. I hadn't managed to grab the box with all my books in from Dallas, meaning my Harry Potter books were still back there. I hadn't read them in a while so, when I saw them, I just had to pick them up.

So I started reading.

I was done with the first, second and third in seven and a half hours.

I was done with the fourth in three hours.

By the time I looked at the clock in my room – _I did it again _– it was already well into the morning – I was already on the fifth book.

"Just a few more pages." I muttered to myself. "I've almost finished the chapter."

A few pages turned into another chapter.

Another chapter turned into another two.

I thought I still had plenty of time to sleep when someone walked in.

"So this is why you weren't answering." Derek sighed, nodding towards the books, a hint of a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as the rest of the Pack gathered behind him. "Have you even slept?"

"S-Sorry." I mumbled. "I-I didn't realise... I get so caught up when I'm reading and... I didn't mean to... Sorry."

Derek tilted his head to the side as he gestured for everyone else to get lost, before walking into my room and closing the door behind him, leaning against it.

He stayed there for a moment, arms crossed as he leant one side against the door. But after a few minutes of silence, after I placed the book down – I memorized my place – he pushed himself off of the door and came to stand at the end of my bed.

"You don't have to keep apologising, Stiles." Derek said, quietly. "We're not going to hurt you here, no matter what you do. If you want to stay up all night and read, that's your call. You want to eat, do it. This is your home now too. Remember that."

I nodded before he turned and walked back towards the door.

"Hey, Derek." I called out, softly, staring down at the duvet. "Thank you. For everything. And for what you did with the school... Erica told me you, and I quote, 'kicked up a right fuss'. So, uh, yeah... Thanks."

Derek huffed slightly, almost like a small laugh. From this angle, it looked like he was smiling...

"Get some sleep, Stiles." Derek murmured. "I'll make sure there's food let for you when you wake up."

* * *

Monday 18th. My first Monday off of school. They all had said they'd pick up any work from me from our classes and give me the assignments so I would fall behind on work. Until they all came back, I had nothing to do though.

Danny had given me permission to use his laptop while they were at the school, whether it was to just to look at stuff or to do school work. The kid was alright...

So that's how, on this Monday, while Peter and Derek were out, I was in the living room, on YouTube, listening to all the songs I liked while dancing around the living room.

Now, I wasn't a good dancer. I just liked dancing randomly when I listened to music. It wasn't like anyone could see me. Besides it was nothing more that jumping around, swaying my hips or grinding the air.

Shut up, it's fun!

I was currently listening to the _Nightcore_ version of _I Don't Care_ by _Fall Out Boy_. Now that song was good to move your hips to.

With a bottle of cola in my hand, I couldn't give a crap about staying quiet. So I sang as loud as I could, moving to the music, only stopping singing when I poured some of the cold liquid down my throat.

Of course, while doing this, I didn't notice anyone coming back.

I didn't hear the door open and close.

I didn't hear the footsteps.

I only heard the heartbeats after the song had finished.

I spun around to find the two Hales standing there, both with an expression of a different level of amusement.

I didn't have to look in a mirror to know that I had gone as red as a tomato.

Oh, how I wish I could say that was the only time they caught me during my time off of school...

* * *

My days out of school were pretty much the same.

On Thursday 28th November though, I was told something I never expected to hear.

"Stiles, we're going to Scott's mom's house for dinner." Derek said while the others were still at school and we were sat in the living room. "For Thanksgiving."

_And we all knew what that meant._

"Oh, ok..." I muttered, trying not to sound as sad as I felt. "Have fun..."

Derek turned to me, raising an eyebrow. It was weird how funny it looked as he sat in his armchair doing it.

"What do you mean? You're coming to." Derek told me, slowly.

"I... What?!" I stuttered. "And she's _alright _with that?!"

"Don't be so dramatic. Just make sure your ready."

Person I never met.

Strange house.

This couldn't go well...

* * *

So, Melissa – who I found out was Scott's mom's name – apparently knew me. Only by rumour, but yeah, she had heard of me...

And I was terrified.

I don't do well with parents. They take one look at me and run away holding their children close. Or they hear stupid rumours about me and yell at me for helping their kid – _yeah, Jason's mom, I'm talking about you, bitch._

You would not believe how much I wanted to run when we were all standing outside her door...

I was seriously contemplating running, when the door swung open.

Derek had grabbed hole of my shoulder when that happened, pushing my inside after everyone else and before him, as he greeted Melissa McCall. I couldn't hear anything over my heart pounding in my ears, I only noticed Derek gesture towards me.

He placed his hand back on my shoulder after he finished saying who I was, which calmed me enough to hear what was being said.

Derek didn't let go though.

"Stiles, everyone's told me so much about you." she smiled – you know, that really motherly smile.

"Well, that's not good then." I muttered to myself.

"Oh, don't be silly. It was all good. I couldn't quite believe those silly rumours to begin with, and after what everyone had to say about you I just couldn't believe that people could make up such things."

I had to stand there and stare, mouth open and eyes wide.

No one had ever said that to me before...

"Thank you, Mrs McCall." I whispered.

"Please, call me Melissa." she said.

* * *

I had been herded into the living room with the others, sitting there with the parade on, as Melissa cooked in the kitchen. I felt a little uncomfortable though, everyone together while Melissa worked her ass off to cook dinner. Especially considering how many wolves there were.

So, without thinking, I jumped up and went into the kitchen.

At first I just stayed in the doorway, watching as she ran around like a headless chicken.

"Um... Melissa?" I started, hesitantly. "D-Do you want any help?

The woman in question spun around, smiling gratefully.

"If you could that would be great." she admitted. "It's hard cooking for eight werewolves."

"Tell me about it. I do all the cooking back at the house; otherwise they'd all be eating out of ordering in." I chuckled, walking over to the stove. "I guess they told you about what I am? Well, even though I'm half wolf half fox, I don't eat as much as any of them... It still makes me ill just thinking about it."

"I know! I always wonder where they put it."

"Werewolf metabolism. You gotta love it."

Melissa and I just looked to each other and laughed.

During the whole cooking-dinner-and-never-want-to-see-food-again-holy-God-there's-so-much thing, Melissa and I actually became quite good friends. She was kind and motherly and just overall a nice person. She asked me about myself, wanting to permanently rid her mind of the lies people had told her...

No one had ever been like this towards me when first meeting me. I liked it...

* * *

It wasn't long before we were all sat at the table, laughing and talking and eating.

I was actually enjoying the experience much more that I had thought I would... It felt nice to be included and it felt nice to be wanted. Melissa even made it known to me that she wanted me there while we were cooking an even a couple of times while we had been at the table.

"So, Stiles." Melissa giggled, calming down after a story Scott had told. "You haven't said much about your mom and dad."

I almost much chocked on the turkey I had in my mouth, while the others just went a little stiff.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Scott shake his head a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry." she muttered, embarrassedly.

"I-It's ok." I told her, smiling sadly. "My... My mom died five days after my tenth birthday, of stomach cancer. The doctors caught it too late and couldn't do anything to save her. But she would have loved all of you though. She loved to cook and would have told you to sit down and take a break, let someone else handle it for a change."

I sniffled a bit, giving a soft forlorn laugh.

"But she would have loved this though. Would have loved that I was celebrating again." I added, quietly.

"That is the first thing you have told us _willingly_." Boyd commented, earning a jab in the ribs from Derek.

"Sorry, won't happen again."

"No, no! We don't mean it's a bad thing, sweetie." Lydia covered, quickly. "We're just a little surprised."

I smiled a little at the strawberry blonde, nodding slightly. I guess it was the first thing I had said without prompting...

"What about your dad?" Melissa asked, hesitantly this time.

I stiffened in my chair.

_Calm down, Stiles. You can't let them know about that asshole!_

"I don't talk to him anymore." I said, carefully, trying not to lie. "We haven't gotten along very well in a few years.

For a while, there was silence as everyone continued eating. I caught Isaac's gaze once, receiving a slight nod from him. I knew that he meant he would keep my secret about my dad, and boy was I grateful for that kid!

"So, you have yourself a girlfriend?" Melissa asked after a few minutes.

And just like that, the whole mood seemed to change.

"No, I'm gay, actually." I grinned. "Figured it out when I was fourteen. And, before you ask, yes I've _had _a boyfriend, but I don't think any good could come from me telling you about my ex."

"I'll take your word for it." Melissa smiled.

"Thanks. But I do have these guys to thank for getting me away from him. If it wasn't for them... Well, God knows what could have happened. I've only been living in the house for...two months and seven days, and they've already done so much for me."

Melissa let out a quiet '_aw_' as I realised what I had said and ducked my head, trying to hide the colour creeping up my neck.

"Well, hey, looks like I found what I'm thankful for." I chuckled.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_

_**Sorry it's been a while :/ I had a sleepover and it threw me off track.**_


	19. A Kiss

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe), Chase, Jonah, Simon, Sam.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 18**

**Stiles**

It was the night after Thanksgiving – Friday, November 29th – that it happened. I was lying on my bed, in my room, staring up at the white ceiling. And it just... It just hit me. The realisation shocked me enough that I almost fell off of the bed, thanks to the jolt my body gave from the surprise. I never saw it coming, not at all.

I mean, who would have thought that I would ever come to terms with actually liking – as in hopelessly attracted to – Derek Hale.

Sure, he's an _awesome _guy, sometimes a little on the sour side... But there was something about him that just made me like him that extra bit more. Like him in a way I didn't the others in his Pack. I refused to think it was because we were Mates. I would never be so lucky as to find mine. I didn't deserve to find that one person meant for me. Too much shit had gone on in my pathetic excuse of a life to convince me that I am so _not_ worthy of that sort of happiness.

But not even that could stop what I was feeling for the Alpha wolf of Beacon Hills.

It was a first, that's for sure.

I mean, I never even felt this way about anyone, not even _Zane_. With Zane...I guess it was just the idea of someone actually caring about me and not judging me that I fell for, not actually him. But with Derek? It was so much more than that. He made everything easier – literally.

He can calm me down with just a touch and I would barely even flinch when his hand made contact with my shoulder. No one had ever been able to do that with me before, not even my _mom_.

Derek was different.

If only I had the change to have that stupid cliché of a happy ending that script writers love so much...

* * *

After depressing myself with thoughts of wanting-but-never-being-able-to-have-Derek, I left my room and pretty much _dragged _myself downstairs. It was late enough that everyone was asleep, but it wasn't _too _late.

This happened every Friday, all of them going to sleep earlier than they did on Saturday, because they were so tired from class.

So I was alone downstairs, no one else around.

Sighing, I trudged into the kitchen, deciding that a nice big cup of coffee was exactly what I needed right now. There was no way I would be getting to sleep tonight, and I didn't feel like reading. All the '_love_' drama in those books would just make me think, which would only worsen my mood.

"I had all day to think about this." I muttered to myself. "Why the hell did it have to come up now?"

I could have been asleep. I mean, sure, I would have woken up after having yet _another _nightmare, but at least I would have been able to have gotten in at least a couple hours of rest.

But who would want to sleep when you could have coffee? The liquid was warm and sweet, just how I liked it. Well, of course it would be how I liked it if I was the one that had made it. I sat down at the kitchen table, leaning back in the chair as I drank. The quiet, for some unknown reason, felt nice. I sometimes hated it, mainly because it reminded me so much of being left alone in that basement with only myself for company.

But other times, I just loved it. Being able to think without anyone interrupting or anything.

Now was one of those times, even if I really didn't want to think about any of this right now.

* * *

I had only been sitting there for twenty minutes, my coffee long gone, when I heard a slight rustle of leaves from outside. It wasn't from the wind or an animal, the movement was too small. The movement was too..._accidental_.

Slowly, I stood up from where I was sitting, walking towards the back door – which was in the kitchen. Unlocking it as quietly as I could, I opened it just enough for me to slip outside and shut the door behind me.

It was a cold night and I was barefoot, but I ignored that in favour of honing in on hearing, listening out for that slight moving again, subtly sniffing the air to see if I could get a catch of its scent.

That's when I caught it. Something burning. Metal. Blood.

My eyes started flashing between just red, just purple and half and half, going round and round in an endless circle. My claws elongated, fangs starting to drop. This couldn't have happened at a more perfect time. I mean, I was still pissed about this whole thing with Chase – still couldn't believe I had to take the time off school, even _after _I was proved innocent –, and I wanted this thing _dead_.

Silently, I started to move through the forest as my ears and tail started to appear, my eyes still flashing between colours.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

Waking up on the ground, with sticks and stones digging into your back, isn't a pleasant experience... But it was better than waking up on a basement floor. Lifting my head up, I groaned as my vision started to blur and my head started to pound.

It took me a moment to realise that I was covered in blood, both my own and...someone/something else's. For a moment, I panicked, wondering what the fuck I had done, wondering who I had hurt. I started panicking over whether it was one of the wolves, or Allison or an innocent person here in Beacon Hills, just taking a stroll through the forest.

My stomach dropped with that thought. With the thought that I would be exactly what everyone thought I was already.

But then it hit me.

The faint scent of something burning, metal and blood.

And it all came rushing back to me.

The Spring Heeled Jack jumped down from one of the high branches, lunging at me and swiping at me with its claws. I had moved out the way quickly, but as time went one I started to come down from my caffeine high. He got the better of me, claws scratching over my chest. The marks weren't as deep as the ones he gave to Derek, but they still bled excessively. The combination of blood loss and losing my caffeine high were enough to make me have to sit down before, eventually, falling asleep.

But he could have killed me, while he had the chance. So why didn't he?

With my stomach protesting, I dragged myself up onto my feet, using the trees and the side of the house to get me back to the kitchen door.

Of course, I wasn't expecting everyone to be in the kitchen when I walked in through the door...

To say they were all surprised was an understatement. Everyone went quiet, eyes wide, the scent of shock coming from each of them, one person emitting anger... But I didn't look into it all that much.

"Guess I have to explain, huh?" I chuckled, tiredly.

"You think?!" Scott demanded.

* * *

By the time I finished, I was sitting in the usual chair, coffee and food in front of me. Sure, they were pissed that I went after it on my own. Saying that it was dangerous and I could have been killed, and so on and so on. But none of them were as mad as Derek was...

Derek kept quiet throughout the whole thing, but sitting so close allowed me to see him shaking ever so slightly, the small tightening of his jaw, the way he just tensed all over and curled his hand into a fist on his leg.

I felt bad. I really did. And it sucked, because I hated feeling bad. I hated knowing that I was the reason for making someone so furious or upset. So I just shrunk back in the chair, curling in on myself and letting my head hang. It's what I would do whenever my dad was mad...though it always ended in him beating the shit out of me for 'being disrespectful' for not looking him in the eye. But then, whenever I _did _look him in the eye, he would say I was 'being disrespectful' for thinking I could look at him.

Right now, I had no idea which I should be doing or what would happen if I chose wrong. So I just looked down, hoping to God that nothing was said.

I had drowned out all sound of the others complaining, going on and on about how I could have been hurt so much worse than I already was. I just stared at the table, pushing the bacon around on my plate, not feeling very hungry.

It was then someone's hand came down sharply onto the table, the bang and the rattle of cutlery so loud in the echo-y room.

Isaac and I pretty much jumped out of our seats, backing away slowly, wide eyed and breathing harshly. While I started shaking slightly, I noticed that Isaac was completely lost. His eyes had glazed over as he backed out of the kitchen, kept walking backwards until his back hit the wall in the hallway. He knocked into a table along the way, sending a glass vase crashing to the ground, the sound of the shattering glass making him flinch and whimper.

_I was still living with my dad at the time, but I ran away when he saw my cheek heal, after he threw a glass pitcher above my head and it cut me._ That's what Isaac had told me when he was helping me after I had walked into that knife.

A _glass _vase would sound a hell of a lot like a _glass _pitcher when it smashed...

I was the first one over to Isaac, closely followed by Danny, Derek and the rest of them. I crouched down on Isaac's left, Danny on his right, trying to snap him out of the flashback, trying to stop him from going too deep into his panic.

But it had already consumed him.

He looked more like a scared little boy than an eighteen year old dude who had a family that loved him. His eyes were widening even further, the blue starting to flake with a golden yellow.

"Shit." I breathed. "Just had to hit the fucking table, didn't you."

I threw the last part over my shoulder, towards the other nine. Since I didn't know exactly _who _did it, I couldn't look at them right in the eye or say a name but, _man_;I was going to make them feel_ fucking _guilty!

"Can't believe I'm going to do this." I muttered to myself, cracking my knuckles and rolling my shoulders.

As I reached my hands out towards a shaking Isaac, Danny grabbed onto my wrist. I flinched before looking up into his worried eyes, understanding what must be going through his mind right now – sympathy is so much stronger when you can smell how people feel...

"What are you going to do?" Danny asked, quietly and quickly.

"Help him." I said. "And if I'm going to do it, I need to do it now. I'll explain after. Just... For now, just hold him still. It won't be as effective if he's moving so much."

Danny nodded slowly, moving closer to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him. Isaac fought for a moment, screaming at the top of his lungs that he was sorry and that he didn't want to go in the freezer again.

By the whine from Danny, I knew it was breaking his heart.

But after a moment of Danny whispering to and holding Isaac, the blonde managed to still enough for me to get to work. And just in time to.

Without waiting another second, I moved my hands forward, placing one on Isaac's shoulder and my other on the back of his neck. I closed my eyes, murmuring the Latin words '_et cessabit_' four times, before neon white spindly lines ran up both my arms, across my shoulders, around my neck and into my hairline. Some of the lines would have crossed over my face to go into my hair line, while a few would have gone into my eyes. My eyes which were now completely black, with a small slakes of white from where the lines on my skin were being absorbed.

I kept repeating the two Latin words every now and again, whenever I felt the panic start to rise inside of the boy again.

But as Isaac started to calm down, no longer shaking or whimpering, starting to come back to himself...I was the one that started to shake. I was the one who started to panic ever so slightly. I was the one that was _seeing and feeling _everything Isaac's bastard father did to him.

All the fear.

All the anger.

All the scars.

All the blood.

All the tears.

All the _pain_.

It all hit me like a ton of bricks, all of it crashing down on me. It occurred to me that I was now going to have to go through day to day life knowing what happened to the sweet, happy kid in front of me, whilst also trying to deal with everything that happened back in Dallas. Was that going to be what gave me the final push to end it all?

I heard voices, all of them sounding so very far away, even Isaac's. Everything was so far away that I didn't even react to the hand that was suddenly placed onto my shoulder, the weight and warmth of it only just registering.

I couldn't pull away; I couldn't stop taking his pain away. There was so much just hiding away that no one knew about, so much that he hadn't told anyone about. And now I was seeing it all. Though that should never happen, I had never been able to see the memories that were causing such pain and distress before.

But then I was being pulled away.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, taking my arms away, before wrapping around my torso and helping me to stand. I only just noticed Danny pulling Isaac up with him, not letting the slightly shorter boy go once they were standing.

"Wh-What the hell was that?" Allison asked, hesitantly.

"Foxy powers." I laughed, weakly, breathlessly.

The arms slowly let go of me as I found my feet – and a grip on the hallway table. Man, did I feel dizzy.

"Stiles, are you ok?" Jackson asked, slowly.

"Yeah, 'm fine." I muttered. "Just need to lie down."

I took one step towards the living room before collapsing. The last thing I remembered was being caught by the same strong arms.

* * *

When I woke up, I was surrounded by heat.

That was the only thing that registered.

Just...heat.

All around me.

_Shit! I'm on fire!_

My eyes snapped open as I threw myself across the room, regretting it the moment my stomach churned and I collapsed to the floor again, this time staying awake. I groaned as I hit the cold ground, the burning heat passing.

But then I took a look around.

I hadn't been on fire.

I had only been surrounded by werewolves.

Who were now looking freaked out and concerned.

"Sorry." I croaked. "Werewolves are warm. Thought I was on fire."

The all nodded slowly as Derek stood up from where he had been propped up on the floor – everyone was lying there in a puppy pile – walking over to give me a hand up. As I took the offered hand, I looked back to the puppy pile, noticing that the two spots missing – the spots that Derek and I had left – were both in the middle.

I had been pressed between Derek and one of the Betas...

Now my stomach was being a nuisance for a completely different reason...

"You alright?" Derek asked, softly, _not_ removing his hand from mine once I was standing.

"Yeah..." I nodded. "Just feeling a little weak."

When he started walking again, pulling me with him, I thought everyone was going to go to their usual seats in the living room.

Nope.

I was dragged back into the puppy pile, squashed between Derek and Isaac.

For a long moment, no one said a word. We all just stayed quiet. I was thankful for that to be honest, it gave me time to get used to the – what I can only describe as the – largest cuddle fest that was going on.

I mean, it was nice... I liked the non-harmful contact from other people.

"Thanks, Stiles." Isaac suddenly whispered, his hand finding my wrist, tightening his grip for a moment before letting go.

I just turned my head, giving the kid a small smile, nodding slightly, as I relaxed further into the blankets and pillows that we were all lying on.

"What _did_ you do?" Boyd asked, head popping up from the other end of the pile.

Sighing slightly, I sifted until I was a little more comfortable, preparing myself to _try _and explain.

"We were-foxes have abilities like werewolves. Werewolves are super-healers and can take the pain of an injury away from people." I explained. "Were-foxes can take pain away from the memories people are remembering, which can bring them out of panic attacks. I absorbed Isaac's pain and panic into myself. But..."

"But what?" Danny asked.

"Bear in mind that this had never happened when I've used this particular ability before, but..." I told them, before turning to Isaac. "I saw _everything _your dad did to you. I _felt _it. As if I was you."

Isaac's eye widened, a small amount of panic starting to cross his face.

"I'm not going to say anything." I covered, quickly. "I just thought I should let you know."

He nodded jerkily, still wide eyed, before sinking back into the pillows and blankets as Danny pressed a little tighter into his back, tightening his arms around the younger.

"You should go to sleep." Derek told me. "You're exhausted."

I opened my mouth to argue, but all that came out was a long yawn. So, admitting defeat, I just lay down, knowing this time who was around me.

"And when you wake up you can deal with the Spring Heeled Jack." Derek whispered as everyone else fell asleep too. "He didn't expect all of us to go after him for hurting you."

That was pretty much the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep yet again.

* * *

I didn't wake up until Sunday – December 1st – morning. Tomorrow I would be going back to school – _finally! _

I was still pressed tightly between wolves when I woke up, but this was different to when I had first found myself in the puppy pile. I was now facing Isaac, a gap between the two of us, while my back was pressed firmly against Derek's chest. Derek who had one arm thrown over me, hand pressed to my chest, pulling me back even further. His face was pressed into the back of my neck, small puffs of arm sending small tremors down my back.

_I should not like this so much! Very bad Stiles! Very, very bad Stiles!_

I kept as still as I could; hoping that at some point Derek would just..._roll away_.

So I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Derek just stayed exactly where he was. If possible he moved _closer_!

Why was I not freaking out over this?! It didn't make sense!

But soon I couldn't keep still any longer, I had to get up and move! So, slowly and carefully, I removed myself from the pile, placing the pillow that had been under my head under Derek's arm... A long shot, yeah, but it actually seemed to work.

* * *

After coming back downstairs, the first thing I did – instead of going to the kitchen – was head towards the training room. I was using my nose to guide me, manoeuvring my way through the large house towards the one place I wanted to be.

I was surprisingly calm throughout the whole thing, taking slow measured steps through the halls towards the door. I could hear the sounds of someone struggling as I got closer, a chair moving and ropes rubbing...

I came to the door at the end of the hall, pushing it open slowly. There, in the centre of the room, the bastard that killed the majority of the only family I knew was tied to a chair, gagged. Well...that made me job a hell of a lot easier.

I closed and locked the door after I stepped in, keeping calm and my expression blank. It was as soon as the lock slid into place that I shifted, going from human to full fox.

Bearing my teeth, I knew I was going to have fun with this... And it was always great that I could influence the different elements when in this form.

* * *

Everyone was starting to wake up as I made my way from the training room to the kitchen. I said nothing to them, just disappeared through the door, starting on the coffee and breakfast.

No one asked why I was staring so blankly at everything or why I was talking less than usual. They just left me to it. I made a mental note to thank them all later.

Of course, later, the Betas – and Peter – all disappeared outside, leaving only Derek and I in the leaving room with some stupid programme on, which neither of us were watching. Well, I don't know if staring at the TV counted as me watching it, but I was going to say no.

I had turned onto my back when I heard one character say '_one way or another, you're gunna die_'. Now that was not something I needed to hear...

_**FLASHBACK – Sunday, July 19**__**th**__** 2009: 15 Year Old Stiles**_

"_One way or another, I will kill you." he snarled, raising the whip higher than before, snapping it down quickly._

_A chocked sob escaped me, as I shakily tried to stand up. I had only just managed when a fist collided with the side of my face, making me smash into the wall with a loud thud. With a small whimper, I tried to keep myself standing on shaking legs. _

_Dad growled, the animalistic growl noise sounding wrong and horrible coming from a human. Or whatever my dad was, because no person should be capable of...this. Before I knew it, the hard leather struck my back again, the force of the hit sending me down to my knees, head-butting the wall as I fell. _

"_I'm going to end your miserable, pathetic life." he roared, kicking me in the stomach, sending me onto my back. "Just like you ended your mothers."_

"_I-I'm sorry!" I cried. "I-I didn't mean to!" _

"_Sorry doesn't bring her back! You're a sorry excuse for a person, and you are no son of mine!"_

_It was then he took out his lighter, pausing only to light the cigarette in his hand before dropping it onto me. He once made a joke how he was_ _'_taking lighting a fag to a whole new level_'._

"_PLEASE, STOP!" I screamed, as he pressed his foot into the metal, making the flame dig into my skin. "DAD, PLEASE!_

_Tears blurred my vision. Or that could have been because I was almost blacking out from the pain._

"Don't_ call me that, you little fag." he snarled._

_**END OF FLASHBACK – BACK TO: Sunday, December 1**__**st**__** 2013**_

"_...iles? Stiles!" _a voice was yelling.

I continued to breathe heavily, throat constricting painfully.

But then a hand was on my shoulder, the pressure reassuring. _That wasn't right..._ Opening my eyes slowly, I found myself propped up against the sofa, Derek crouching in front of me and frowning. I only noticed then that, as well as Derek's left hand on my shoulder, his right hand was on the back of my neck... _That's new. _

"S-Sorry..." I stuttered, clearing my throat. "Flashbacks suck..."

"I know." he sighed. "You don't have to explain."

I nodded, the side of my mouth twitching slightly into some form of a smile.

"Thanks." I whispered. "For everything."

Derek just shrugged, helping me up off of the floor.

* * *

About two hours later, I walked out of my room – reading again – to go...well, to go do something different. I mean, come on, I got bored too!

I had started walking past Derek's room, when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head towards the open door, finding a shirtless Derek – in sweats – doing sit ups. And, wow, it was nice to be able to see that when we were not training...

As I watched, I couldn't help but notice that it looked a bit _too _easy for him, even if he was a werewolf. And it wasn't hard to notice why.

"You know, it's not as affecting when you're feet keep coming off of the floor." I told him, leaning against the doorframe.

Derek sat up, looking over his shoulder at me

"Is that a statement, or are you offering to help?" he asked, smirking slightly.

Rolling my eyes, I pushed off of the doorframe, removing my plaid shirt as I went so I was left in the Captain America t-shirt that Derek had snuck past Lydia. I don't know if I imagined it, but I swore I saw a small smile flash across his face for a second, as if pleased that I was choosing the Superhero shirts over the ones that Lydia had chose.

But that couldn't have been right.

Kneeling down in front of him, I grabbed hold of Derek's ankles, keeping him down on the floor as he started to continue his sit ups.

I would deny any and all accusations made towards me for enjoying this... It was times like this that I was grateful that the thing Deaton gave me to cover my scent hadn't worn off yet, because if meant that Derek couldn't tell – well, smell – anything.

Man, that made me happy!

* * *

I had no idea how many he had done or how long I had been there helping him, but after a while the grip I had on Derek's ankles started to slip.

So, naturally, I shifted slightly, getting a better hold, which in turn made me tilt forward a little bit.

I did not expect Derek to push himself up faster than before, hand on the side of my face, as he pressed his lips to mine.

I completely lost my grip, making me fall forward onto Derek, pressing us together even more. Derek's other hand came up to my side to steady me, both of my hands somehow resting on his bare chest.

Once I got my head around what had actually happened, I pulled away, standing up quickly.

Derek looked up, tilting his head to the side like a puppy... I just started back at him, eyes wide. I just blinked at him as it slowly dawned on him that that shouldn't have happened.

"I'm..." I said, quietly. "Going for a walk."

I all but ran out of his room.

* * *

No words could describe how happy I was that no one was around as I ran out of the front door and into the light rain. Rain was good, rain was cold.

I sighed slightly, leaning against the outside wall of the house, breathing a little heavily as I tried to pull myself together.

_Derek just kissed me._

No! Shouldn't think about that!

"Need to walk." I muttered to myself, pushing off of the wall and heading towards the forest.

Shaking my head slightly, I focused on just reaching the forest, instead of remembering the feel of Derek's skin on the palms of my hands...

And that wasn't helping...

Groaning slightly, I ran a hand through my wet hair. Maybe ripping some of it out could make me focus...

"_Stiles! Hey, wait for me!"_

I chose well when giving Isaac the nickname of '_Pup_'.

"What's up, Pup?" I asked – heh, rhyming.

"Where you going?" he questioned, smiling.

"Forest. Walk."

"In the rain?"

"No, in the snow."

Isaac, childishly just stuck his tongue out. It shouldn't have made me laugh. I don't know why it did. I couldn't help it.

"Want to come with?" I asked, jerking my thumb towards the trees.

"Sure." Isaac grinned, as we started walking. "Danny's in the garage, working on his car. I'm not really allowed near it..."

"Yeah, I heard you took the door off."

A block of red spread over Isaac's face as he gave a sheepish smile, muttering about how it was an accident and how it wasn't his fault that the door was open and water was slippery...

* * *

I don't know how far we walked, but we ended up coming to this field, made muddy by the rain.

Isaac and I had a lot in common, besides the abusive dad's and love for comic books. We both liked Harry Potter, we both liked Queen songs. There were so many things that we could talk about, but the one thing that we both had in common that meant the most to us? The fact that we could just talk to each other about what happened in our pasts knowing that we wouldn't be judged, even if we knew the people we were talking to wouldn't do that.

Because we knew that the other had been through the same/similar things, we could just be open about all the shit that had gone on in our lives. Just get it all out, off our chests.

"Is it alright if I ask why you tried to kill your dad?" Isaac asked, hesitantly, as we walked carefully through the field.

"Well, I thought I'd repay the favour after all the times he tried to do it to me." I shrugged, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets as we walked. "As soon as we got home he pretty much beat the shit out of me."

I sighed, remembering the event easily. I hated that it was still there at the forefront of my mind.

"Zane forced me round his place later that day." I continued. "He did what he always did, ending in him beating the shit out of me too... Both of those in one day...almost killed me."

"Whoa..." Isaac muttered. "Well, you got us now. You don't have to worry about them. Ever."

"Thanks, Pup."

Isaac opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a surprised yip as he slipped, falling on his ass, in the mud.

If I started howling with laughter, well that was my business.

And if Isaac then proceeded to start a mud fight, well that was none of your concern...

But he totally did!

* * *

I ran back to the house, Isaac somewhere behind me with his handful of mud. I was out of breath from laughing and running, earning many confused and amused looks from everyone, who were evidently outside, on the porch, waiting for Isaac and me.

Derek raised an eyebrow, seeing the state I was in.

I opened my mouth to say sorry, but all that came out was another round of giggles.

"Well it _is_ raining." was all I got out.

It was at that time that Isaac ran onto the scene and, with a battle cry, flung the mud in his hand towards me. Of course I ducked.

But Derek didn't.

So the Alpha got a face full of mud.

Everything went quiet as well all just kind of stared at a mud covered Derek as Isaac stepped closer to me.

I ended up breaking the silence in a matter of seconds, laughing harder than I ever had in my life, falling to the ground because of the pain in my side.

I tried to for words. Any type of words. But then I would catch a look at Derek. So I was only able to point and laugh.

And laugh,

And laugh some more.

Man, I could get used to this life.

* * *

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks so much XD**_


	20. Hells Bells

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 19**

**Stiles**

It was my first day back since '_the incident_', which I had taken to calling it. Finally, I could get back to actually getting the education I want!

I was in art, working on another of the drawings. I had worked out that I should be finished by January 22nd, that was if I didn't have any more interruptions. All I needed to do was keep my head down and just keep going. Hell, I would stay after school if I needed to!

I had gotten my first four filled in, all coloured and awesome. Now I was trying to get, at least, another four outlined. If I stayed on this track, I would have eight of my drawings outlined and filled in by January 6th, leaving only three to get done... And I was going to get there in the end.

"Hey, you're back." a smooth voice chuckled, as someone slid into the chair next to me. "You have no idea how boring it's been without you here, Sweet Stuff."

I swear to _Lucifer_ – yeah, that's right, the fucking _Devil! _– I was going to _strangle _this guy!

During my time off, I had the Erica and Lydia come up to me after school, telling me how '_Gabe'_ had been asking about me, if I was alright, how I was, and all that shit. _They_ thought it was sweet. They had proceeded to tell me that '_Gabe_', while also being the _'hottest guy in school_', was my age – so was the in the year above, which was where I _should _have been. Yeah...jail holds you back a bit...

But I didn't care about anything they had to tell me about him, because I _wasn't interested_. Those two just didn't seem to get that.

And neither did this asshole.

"Seriously, stop with all those stupid names." I sighed. "They're creepy and annoying. Now please leave."

"Ah, come on, Cutie, you don't mean that." Gabriel grinned, leaning forward, resting his hand on my forearm.

I flinched back; making his hand hit the table with a loud thud, causing me to jump again. It actually took me a couple of seconds to just calm down.

Gabriel just watched me curiously, frowning for a moment, while I was seemingly paralyzed for a few short seconds. As soon as I snapped out of it though, I just shook my head and went back to the drawings.

"Say, think you could ever draw me, Baby-Cakes?" Gabriel asked, his tone arrogant as he slid his chair closer to mine.

"I could." I said, flatly. "But I won't."

"Why not, Good-Looking?"

"Because I only draw the things and people I _like_, not the ones I want as far away from me as possible."

Of course, that didn't have the desired effect. Instead of sending Gabriel away, finally getting the message, the guy leaned back in his chair, putting his arm around the back of mine. Breathing deeply through my nose, I desperately tried to get back to my work.

"Man, you don't stop trying do ya, Stud?" Gabriel sighed. "Look, agree to one date with me, just _one_, and I'll leave you alone."

"_Or_, you leave me alone and I'll rethink giving you lead poisoning." I replied through gritted teeth.

"No can do, Sweet Cheeks. See ya tomorrow."

I almost snapped my pencil in half as he walked away. I almost had to ask to go outside, just so I could punch a wall, or something.

But I didn't. I remembered what Derek told me, during one of our one on one training sessions – those were a little weird, now that he kissed me and I...kind of...ran...

I had to anchor myself. Think of someone or something that would keep me human, keep me from turning. Just think of them/that and just breathe.

So that was what I did.

I started thinking of my mom. Thinking of what it would be like if she was here with me, if she met the Pack. I started thinking of how she would have been with all of them, how should would have been with Scott's mom. I thought of her, sitting in the living room, with me and the others, all of us just sitting there and talking...

Only when I felt myself calm down did I realise it. It wasn't my mom who was my anchor.

It was my mom _and the Pack_.

* * *

It was after school that Monday, when all of us were at home – _whoa, did I just say _home_?! _– and sitting in the living room, that Peter brought his guitar in and handed it to me. I looked from it, to him and back again, head tilted to the side as I tried to figure out why...just, why.

"We all think you should play it." Peter shrugged. "Right now."

"And sing." Lydia added, not taking her eyes off of her phone. "You have to do both loud enough so we can hear you."

As everyone else agreed, some just nodding while others gave their confirmation verbally, I set the guitar down – carefully – on the floor. They had no idea what they were asking me to do here...

I mean, sure, I loved to sing and play a guitar more than anyone else, but I couldn't when I knew people were watching me. If I knew people were going to be watching me, I always made sure that I wasn't doing anything musical whatsoever.

I just couldn't...

"Come on, Stiles." Allison grinned. "You know you want to. Just one little song?"

"Yeah! _Please_." Isaac begged, stretching out the last word and adding puppy eyes for good measure.

I looked from one person to the next, all leaning forward with expectant looks. Derek was the only one that wasn't – he hadn't even said anything – but I could tell he wanted me to. I just appreciated that at least _one _person wasn't trying to force me...

"You won't give up until I do it, will you?" I sighed, admitting defeat.

"Huh, look at that. You _do _know something." Erica smirked.

"I know a lot more that you, Catwoman."

Grinning and picking up the guitar, I moved so I sat crossed legged, with the dip in the guitar's body resting on my right leg, my right hand holding the large curved point of the plectrum over the strings while my left hand was at the guitar's neck. The first song that came to mind was _Ho Hey_ by _The Lumineers_. It was a good song, one of my favourites – though none could beat _I Won't Give Up_, by _Jason Mraz_...

"_I've been trying to do it right_  
_I've been living a lonely life_  
_I've been sleeping here instead_  
_I've been sleeping in my bed, _  
_Sleeping in my bed_"

I closed my eyes as I started to sing, the chord pattern ingrained in my muscle memory, so I knew I would go to the right stings and chord shape.

"_So show me family_  
_All the blood that I will bleed_  
_I dunno where I belong_  
_I dunno where I went wrong, _  
_But I can write a song_"

The thing was, I did actually write my own songs. I hadn't written one in a long time though, and those that I had written were stuck at my dad's house, back in Dallas... Those ones weren't very cheery though... Maybe it was time to try writing something a bit happier.

"_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweetheart_  
_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweet_"

I wondered if my mom would like this song. If she would have sung this with me, and sang the harmonies that I had worked out for it – yes, I could work out harmonies...

"_I don't think you're right for him_  
_Think of what it might have been if you_  
_Took a bus to Chinatown_  
_I'd be standing on canal, and bowery_  
_And she'd be standing next to me_"

I loved the extended notes in this song, and how they were sang in the song. I always loved the way some lyrics were changed when sang.

"_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweetheart_  
_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweetheart_"

The chorus of songs was always the catchiest bit. Well, that was the whole point, but still. I always loved the chorus'.

"_And love, we need it now_  
_Let's hope for some_  
_Cause oh, we're bleeding out_"

I felt the same about middle eight's/brides as I did chorus'. I liked how the tune changed, yet still fit in with the song. How the song still flowed.

"_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweetheart_  
_I belong with you, you belong with me_  
_You're my sweet._"

I let the last chord ring, just like in the actual song, keeping my head down even as it faded. Only then did I notice that I was shaking ever so slightly.

I cleared my throat, coughing awkwardly, as I looked up, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Maybe I should let them know why...

"Sorry." I chuckled, humourlessly. "Haven't done that in front of an audience, _knowingly_, since my tenth birthday."

Glancing briefly at them all, I noticed a slight confusion but also a hesitance to ask why. Sighing, I decided that it was just easier if I just told them.

"You all know something's from my past, from hacking into my files. So, you know my mom died five days after my tenth birthday." I said, Danny having the decency to look guilty. "On my birthday, she had given me one of her newest guitars. It was the one I adored as well."

I gently placed Peter's guitar down, resting it against the wall and put the pick on the coffee table.

_Man, this was harder than I first thought..._

"She taught me how to play when I was three. Teaching me all the little different techniques and stuff, and how to tune it of course." I smiled, small and sad but a smile none the less. "We would always find songs that we both loved, learn them, just so we could sing and play them together. I loved coming home and being able to just do that."

I sighed again, leaning further back into the couch I was leaning against.

"When she died, I never picked up another guitar. Not until October sixth, when you two found me." I continued, nodding at Peter and Derek. "I haven't performed to anyone, knowingly, since she died either. Until now..."

* * *

Tuesday 2nd, and the two Hales decided that it was about time all of us went out to eat again.

I tried to protest, reminding them about the mother from last time... They just ignored everything I said about it and got me into Derek's car – front seat, again. And, again, we were going to Red Lion Family Pizzeria, in Magalia.

In the end I gave up, just going along with what they all wanted.

As we sat in the restaurant though, I couldn't help but think what they had all done for me the last time we went there, when the guy wouldn't let us in. How they all started yelling at the twenty-one year old dude, threatening to close the restaurant or make it lose business.

They didn't have to do that, but they did.

No one, let alone ten people, did that for me... It felt nice.

A poke to my ribs broke me out of the memory, the feeling not bad just...ticklish. The poking kept coming, making me squirm in my seat until I shoved whoever it was away – after letting out a small laugh, _not giggle you can't prove it_!

Turning, I glared at the person to my right – _of course it would be Derek_. He just looked slightly amused.

"Bastard." I muttered, not being able to get rid of the small smile on my face.

"Well, at least we know how to get your attention now." Erica grinned.

And that something you never wanted to hear.

"_I can't believe they let someone like _him_ in here." _

Of course, _that _was even worse.

"_I know. I dread to think what his parents are like."_

"_I blame the mother. It's like dogs, if there's something wrong with the bitch then there's something wrong with the pup."_

After that I just saw red.

People could talk about me as much as they liked; hell, they could talk trash about my dad... But bring up my _mother_ and we have a problem.

I don't actually remember how it happened, but one moment I was sitting there with the Pack, glaring at my food, the next I was leaning with my hands on the table, in front of the man and woman who had just been discussing me.

"You want to know something? I'm really not like that." I told them. "You're just believing some stupid rumours that petty, pathetic people make up, just for the hell of it. If any of you actually took the time to talk to me and get to know me, you'd see that. You know _nothing _about me, or anything that's happened to me."

I started to walk away, grabbing my jacket off of the back of my chair before heading to the door.

"And, for the record, my mom is _dead_." I called over my shoulder. "And she was the best damn person in this Godforsaken world."

With that, I stormed through the doors of the restaurant, heading towards the cars.

* * *

I was sitting on a nearby rock when the others appeared. No one said anything; they just went over to then cars, unlocking them. As soon as I could, I jumped into Derek's car, buckling up and leaning my head against the glass of the window.

Nothing was said as we made our way back to the house. I was grateful for that.

I know that I said I didn't care about what these people think and say, but it does hurt. They seem to forget that I'm an actual person with real feelings, who was still affected by everything and everyone.

No, no one sees that. They just seem someone who will corrupt everyone in this town, someone who will turn their kids on to drugs. They see everything I'm _not_, instead of everything I _am_.

And it sucked.

* * *

Wednesday and Thursday were days that I was pestered insistently and continuously by Gabriel. Chase had, thankfully, taken a step back and left me alone, but this guy just kept on trying.

Even when I wasn't in art, Gabriel would seem to pop up and find me, using those God awful names and desperately trying to get me to go out with him. He would be waiting outside of my classes, in the field when I went out there with the Betas... He was _everywhere_.

He really couldn't take no for an answer.

As soon as school finished on Friday 6th, I was out those doors like a rocket. I all but launched myself into my Jeep, throwing my backpack into the passenger seat, buckling in and starting the engine.

I was the first person to pull out of the university's parking lot.

As soon as I got onto the road, heading home – _oh my God, I did it again! _– I sighed in relief, knowing that I would be away from that creep for two days! Man, it felt great. I actually grinned to myself, relaxing further into the driver's seat of my Jeep, letting the music from the only CD I had – one I put together, of a few of my favourite songs – wash over me.

I even started to singing along to the song playing at the top of my lungs –_ Hells Bells_ by _AC/DC _– not even realising that I was doing so, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.

"_I'm rolling thunder pouring rain  
I'm coming on like a hurricane  
My lightning's flashing across the sky  
You're only young but you're gonna die  
I won't take no prisoners won't spare no lives  
Nobody's putting up a fight  
I got my bell I'm gonna take you to hell  
I'm gonna get ya Satan get ya_"

I didn't even seem to care that my window was wide open, the music blasting from the speakers at a loud yet reasonable volume.

"_Hells bells  
Hells bells, you got me ringing  
Hells bells, my temperature's high  
Hells bells_"

As I listened to it, I couldn't help but think of _Dean Winchester _– from _Supernatural _– listening to this song. Though it would probably get a bit awkward if he was listening to it at the end of series four onwards...

"_I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine  
If you're into evil you're a friend of mine  
See the white light flashing as I split the night  
Cause if good's on the left then I'm sticking to the right  
I won't take no prisoners won't spare no lives  
Nobody's puttin' up a fight  
I got my bell I'm gonna take you to hell  
I'm gonna get ya Satan get ya_"

I don't know why, but I always liked the lines '_I'll give you black sensations_' up to '_I'm sticking to the right_'. For some reason, I just really liked those four lines...

"_Hells bells  
Hells bells, you got me ringing  
Hells bells, my temperature's high  
Hells bells_  
_Hells bells, Satan' coming to you  
Hells bells, he's ringing them now_"

It was actually a really catchy song. Sure, when you first listen to it you wonder when it's actually going to begin because of the long intro, but that was just _AC/DC_ and their awesomeness. However, once the song starts and you listen to it for a second time, you forget about that, just sit back and enjoy it.

"_Those hells bells, my temperature's high  
Hells bells, across the sky  
Hells bells, they're taking you down  
Hells bells, they're dragging you down  
Hells bells, gonna split the night  
Hells bells, there's no way to fight  
Hells bells_."

Man, music really was a great way of forgetting your problems.

* * *

I had pulled up to the house in no time. Looking around and listening for heartbeats, I noticed that I was the only one around. Shrugging as I slid out of my Jeep, I locked it back up, leaving my backpack on the passenger seat.

It would be fine while I went for a walk around the forest.

So that's what I did. I went for a walk in the forest, just me and my thoughts. Well, it was until I heard a freaking twig snap. The worst thing about it though? I knew who it was.

"Hey there, Angel Eyes." Gabriel said from behind me.

"Did you _follow _me?!" I yelled. "Seriously?! Do you know how creepy that is?!"

"Oh, you don't mean that, Handsome. You love it."

"No. Really don't. And if you don't leave me alone, I _will _have to hurt you."

Gabriel walked closer, slowly. Almost like he was sneaking up on a deer, or something.

It was times like these that I _really _wished someone were around to save me from this hell. I mean, if Derek or Peter were here – preferably Derek, not that I have anything against Peter – then I would be able to get away from this easy peasy. But, _no_, I was alone!

_Smart move, Stilinski._

"You sure love playing hard to get, Sweetheart." Gabriel grinned. "I like it."

"Go fuck yourself." I spat, turning around and walking away. "And stop with those names!"

I thought that would get away easily, you know? I would walk back to the house, while he went to his car.

Nope.

I had only taken a few steps when a hand landed on my shoulder.

I acted on instinct, grabbing the wrist and flipping them. It was when I saw Gabriel on his back that I hightailed it back home – _third time now!_

* * *

So, I was panicking slightly.

I was running, sure, but Gabriel was just behind me, following. And no one was around!

Of course, that was what I thought. Until I ran into someone – and I fell back on my ass. A _Peter _shaped someone.

I looked up from where I was sat, pleasing the best I could without saying anything for Peter to help me. I could see he was about to ask why...but he stopped when he heard a voice – closer than I had first thought.

Frowning, Peter stuck out his hand, pulling me up from the ground.

I pretty much _jumped _behind him when Gabriel came out of the forest edge.

"And who, may I ask, are you?" Peter asked, though it held more of a demand than I was used to hearing from him.

"Gabriel, sir. Gabriel Wright." he replied, instantly. "I was just..."

"Harassing Mr Stilinski?" Yes I can tell. You're on private property, so I will only ask you this _once _to leave before I call the police department. Now, I doubt you would like that to happen, so I suggest you go now."

"But..."

"_Now_!"

Gabriel started a little from the commanding tone that had entered Peter's voice. To be honest, it surprised me just a little. But it had the desired effect. He just turned around and started to leave.

"And do make sure you are not caught on this property again." Peter added, sweetly. "_Unless _you are invited. Which I doubt you will be."

Oh, how I wished I was related to Peter somehow!

Everyone else had turned up just as Gabriel was walking away. Erica and Lydia got excited...until I told them what happened. After that, they were just disappointed.

What was weird though was Derek looked pissed. I couldn't smell anything coming off of him – probably suppressing whatever he felt so he didn't give it away – but he looked pissed.

Huh, strange...

* * *

Saturday 7th at, about, eleven in the morning, Deaton stopped by the house. I was actually glad to see the vet again, the last time being the day before Zane showed up.

I was a little surprised at myself, to be honest.

But they guy was great, I could admit that now. He put up with me right at the start, helping me out and asking for nothing in return. They guy offered to give me a place to stay, offered me food and a warm shower.

Deaton was a great guy. But then he would have to be in my mom had known him.

I think Deaton was taken aback by how...happy I was to see him. As soon as I heard his voice at the door, after Derek opened it, I pretty much ran over, dropping a hand onto the vet's shoulder and grinning widely.

"Hey, Deaton!" I greeted him, chuckling at what was being said in the living room. "Haven't seen you in a while man."

"Yes, it has been some time." Deaton nodded, eyes a little wider than before. "I see you're looking better."

"Thanks, feeling better too. But that's expected. I mean, wasn't exactly living a desired life before, was I?"

I left it at that, heading towards the kitchen to grab some coffee, snatching up a mug for Deaton too.

By the time I had gotten back, Deaton was already in the living room, talking with everyone else, standing by the window. I passed the vet the mug I had picked up for him, sitting back down on the floor after he took it from me.

It still felt so strange to me that all of this just felt so..._right_.

* * *

**Derek**

Stiles had gone upstairs an hour or two after Deaton arrived, saying something about homework. He made us promise to get him before Deaton left, so he could say goodbye.

Looking back to the once homeless nineteen year old I had taken into my – _our _– home, it was amazing seeing the change. It wasn't much, but Stiles had started to trust us that little bit more, starting to feel comfortable with talk to us and telling us more about him. Hell, he even started conversations instead of just inputting into them every so often.

I wasn't the only one that noticed this change either.

"I wanted to thank you all." Deaton told us a few minutes after Stiles had left the room, the door to his own shut.

"For what?" Boyd asked, looking over from the TV.

"For helping Stiles, of course. Just by this visit and the short time I have spent with him just now, I can see the massive change in him. He's improved a lot since I met him again, when he first moved into town, even before then."

Now that caught my attention.

"How so?" I asked, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

Deaton paused slightly, thinking of how to put it, I suppose.

The vet had been a big help over the years, despite our rocky start. And he had been a help with Stiles. No one in the Pack knew that I had been communicating with the guy so I could know what to do with Stiles. I mean, Deaton knew the most about him, knew his mother, he was obviously the best person to go to in regards to looking after the nineteen year old.

Of course, those conversations also allowed me to ask Deaton what the hell was going on with me. It was a strange feeling that I had, though it was always stronger when around the used-to-be-homeless-boy and none of the books I had managed to save from the fire talked about any of this. And I _couldn't_ go to Peter with this. He would just ridicule and be all...Peter-ish about it.

No, Deaton was my best hope.

But then he told me that it was either: my Alpha side reaching out to the kid, wanting to protect him ever since I brought him into the house, almost as if I had 'adopted' an orphaned cub into the Pack; or Stiles was my wolf's Mate.

I vaguely remembered hearing my mom and dad talking to Laura about Mates and Laura briefly having the conversation with me when I turned nineteen. I always thought it was a bunch of shit.

But now I wasn't so sure.

I turned back to Deaton after that thought ran through my mind.

"Stiles used to be extremely closed off and severely short tempered. Even as a child he was like this, unless with his mother. When meeting new people he usually stayed far away, that being one of a few reasons why he had no friends of his own." Deaton explained. "Now, while Stiles is still closed off and short tempered now, that has improved dramatically since he's been living here. He's more open and has calmed down significantly."

I nodded, noticing the same. Ever since Stiles and I had started our one-to-one training he had gotten better with control over his wolf and fox side. He was even able to go a longer period of time fighting before he felt agitated enough to actually _needed _to shift, and he hadn't had another freak out like he did during our first session.

"He never wanted people talking to him or to help him, he barely allowed me to help him" Deaton continued. "I honestly thought he wouldn't make it past the first month of living in this town. I was so grateful when you took him in and I am even more so now. So, thank you. All of you."

* * *

**Stiles**

It was one in the afternoon that Deaton left, Isaac having run upstairs to my room to come and tell me. Before I had left my room, I grabbed the plastic bag sitting on my desk, holding it tightly before walking down towards the others. I had given Deaton the bag first, telling him how I remembered seeing this photo and, well, because I didn't have it I did the next best thing.

I drew it.

It was of Deaton, Talia – a friend of my mom's – my mom and me, standing outside this house. I had been four around the time the picture was taken and my mom had me on her back, her friend Talia had one arm around both of us.

It hadn't taken long for me to do, but I thought it would be something nice to give to him.

"And I just wanted to say thanks too." I told him as he looked at the small canvas. "I know I've been a pain in the ass since I got here, but you've helped me from the start. So, thanks."

Deaton looked up, smiling, saying that my thanks weren't necessary. He seriously was a great guy.

It was after the front door closed behind him that I realised the shocked and slightly paler faces of the two Hales, both of them staring at each other with wide eyes.

"Are you two alright?" I asked, a little nervous at the looks they were giving each other. "Is something wrong?"

Derek and Peter kind of snapped out of their staring contest long enough to say no, excuse themselves and go outside into the forest.

I just turned to the others who just shrugged, looking just as confused as I did.

"Hey, anyone want to watch _Supernatural _while they're out?" Scott asked.

"Dude, I love you!" I grinned.

Who in their right mind could pass up watching _Supernatural_?! Especially if it was series four onwards, because then you get to all the great Dean/Cas bits and you start to be introduced to all the Destiel things that writes either put in accidentally, or on purpose for Destiel fans like me...

* * *

Later that Saturday afternoon, once Derek and Peter were back and back to normal, everyone was going about whatever they would usually do. I kind of took to wandering around the house, taking a better look around the second floor, since I was never really on it.

So I was just walking down the hall, skipping the doors I could identify as bedrooms.

It was the door at the end of the hall that intrigued me though. It wasn't locked, so I got into it easy enough. I thought it would just be a spare, you know, so I thought it would be empty.

Nope.

Sitting in the middle was a black grand piano, not a single bit of dust covering the surface. Walking over to it, I pressed on of the keys down. Perfectly in tune. Looking around and finding myself alone, I couldn't help but sit down at the stool and place my hands on the keys, just letting my muscle memory move them.

I vaguely remembered being taught how to playBeethoven's _Fur Elise_, and I only just realized that that was what I was in fact playing at this moment. I always liked the soft melody that you would hear when playing the piece, the gentleness always reminding me of a time where I was actually a happy kid.

I just continued to play, closing my eyes at one point.

"Any other hidden talents we should know about?" the amused voice of Peter asked, making me jump and stop playing.

The strange thing was that, after I got over the initial shock and found everyone standing at the door, I actually wanted to tell them everything. Every last little thing about me and I had no idea why.

I dragged it back a little, getting some control again.

"Well, I can play piano." I said, gesturing to the instrument in front of me. "My mom loved it and she taught me after I knew all I needed for guitar. She loved teaching me things and I loved learning things like this from her. She loved it... Always smiled whenever I played that for her."

I smiled a little, before looking up into the slightly sad but 'aw' faces of the Pack as they watched me.

"I can also make a shank from a toothbrush." I told them, trying to be serious.

At the wide eyed looks I received, I found that that may have worked a little _too _well.

"I-It's a joke. I'm allowed to joke." I rushed. "Right?"

* * *

_**Please review XD **_

_**Thanks XD**_


	21. A Game

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**Chapter 20**

**Stiles**

Sunday morning, I woke up with a little thought.

While I knew a few things about the people I had been living with for this short amount of time, they knew way more about me that I did of them. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that didn't sound fair, at all.

_Well, that's going to change._

I tried to come up with a way to get them all to open up and spill the beans about themselves, trying to see if there was a way I could do it without them knowing, while making pancakes – it was a favourite on a morning...though I always made sure to have the bacon and sausages and eggs. I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic every time I made pancakes though... They always reminded me of a simpler life, a happier life... A life I used to know and have.

But it was fine.

For the Pack... Yeah, for the Pack I could look past it. Even if they weren't _my _Pack. They were as good as; taking me in as if I was an orphaned wolf cub, wandering the forest alone, with no one left it the world. That was pretty much what happened.

My throat tightened slightly, the telltale signs of tears approaching making themselves known. Especially when my eyes started to sting. These people, who barely knew me but knew me better than anyone alive today, took me in. They took me in, fed me, clothed me... They didn't kick me out when they found out what I was, or some of the things I had done, or had discovered some of my baggage – Zane, Spring Heeled Jack. They didn't try to force me to open up, letting me decide whether I wanted to or not. They included me, fought for me.

They were like the family I had ripped away from me.

_Huh, never thought I'd _ever _think that... Wow, Stilinski, you're going soft..._

No, not soft...

_Yeah, soft. And crazy, I mean, you're talking with _yourself.

That's normal. Besides, the Pack is made up of good people. The even _accept _me. No one's done that before... Not since mom.

_Yeah... These guys aren't so bad. And, hey, Scott hasn't ditched Isaac since that time you punched him, so at least you know they listen._

Huh... Maybe I was going crazy. I was talking to _myself_.

* * *

As always, once I got the last of the food cooked, everyone appeared. Seriously, it was a little freaky how that happened _every_ morning.

I smiled a little as they all walked in, mumbling a '_good morning_' when they saw me. I know it sounded cliché but it gave me a warm feeling inside... _Wow_, I was sounding like a girl! I just shook my head a little, to clear it, before finishing plating the last batch of pancakes and putting them on the table, taking my usual seat to the right of Derek.

It was still a little weird, sitting next to him after what had happened with the sit ups... But everything was still relatively normal between us. Besides, the Pack didn't know, though I suspected Peter did – you know, weird-creeper-Uncle-werewolf-senses telling him.

I would be surprised if that was the case.

Ok, so a little surprised.

A lot surprised, shut up!

I looked around the table as everyone started eating and drinking and talking. I had this whole plan in my head as to how I was going to bring it up, introduce it in slowly. You know, be casual about this.

"So, I thought we could play a '_game_'." I said.

_Or, I could be a loser and say it like that..._

"A...game?" Boyd repeated, scrunching his nose up.

"Yeah! I haven't got a name yet, though." I told them. "But, at the moment I'm calling it: Nine Wolves and One Human Tell Stiles _All_ About Them, Because They Know A Lot About Stiles."

There were many amused raised eyebrows. But they all gave in.

First they all told me how they joined the Pack – apart from Derek and Peter, of course.

**Allison: **At first was just there for Scott, but then found that werewolves were nothing like her family had said, and she genuinely cared about everyone there. But she didn't want the bite – I didn't know if she was waiting for the right time or what.

**Boyd: **Derek offered him friendship and a sense of belonging.

**Danny: **At first was just there for Jackson, but then came to the realisation that this was where he belonged. I'm sure Isaac was in between those two things... He took the bite for no reason other than he wanted to.

**Erica: **To get rid of her epilepsy and all the nasty things she got with it.

**Isaac: **To get away from his dad.

**Jackson: **Just because... I think it was because he wanted to fit in somewhere.

**Lydia: **She had this weird, creepy thing that happened to her when Peter was psycho, and kind of got caught up in all the wolfy business. After sorting it out, she wanted to know what went on, help out and be there for Jackson. Later on she was turned so she could stay with them all.

**Scott:** He was turned by Peter – during his psycho days – but loved being in the Pack.

Then we moved on to the other stuff.

Allison was an accomplished archer and gymnast. She never liked the idea of being a hunter, if it meant hurting innocent people like her Pack. So he met her parents half way. She loved to learn new things, willing to give anything a go, at least once. She loved the _Mediator _series by_ Meg Cabot_...I loved her for that... Allison also liked Thor and Disney films – who didn't – saying how her mom helped her collect all things Disney.

Boyd worked at the ice-skating rink. He loved to cook, though he didn't know how to do much, only a few things – like cakes and stuff. He didn't have the best life at home, which was why he agreed to becoming a werewolf in the first place, and he decided it was the best decision he had ever made. Boyd said how he liked to write. Just little things, like short stories, and it was only a hobby, but it was something he liked to do.

Danny took break dance lessons when he was three up until the age of nine. He liked Harry Potter – not as much as I did though, but still – and Shakespeare. He had a small fear of the water, because he almost drowned over in Hawaii. Oh, not to forget that he played trumpet. Danny smiled sheepishly about getting his hacking put on his file, but that didn't stop him from continuing.

Erica loved to dance. Like me, she would put a song on and just move to the beat. Even when she wasn't a werewolf she would put some music on and jump around her room, bobbing her head along and singing '_badly_'. While she put up this hard ass bitch exterior, she really was a sweetie... Some of the others jumped in, saying how she basically adopted Isaac as a little brother, taking him under her wing, before the Pack properly got together. While Erica blushed, Isaac just grinned and nodded, telling me everything she had done for him – there was _a lot_!

Isaac didn't have to tell me anything about his past – I already knew. But he told me more about being with the Pack. Because we had gotten so close, I already knew quite a bit about Isaac, but I still learnt a little more. Like, Isaac had never mentioned that he loved Doctor Who – I seriously loved this kid!

Jackson's parents both died in a car crash, the doctors keeping his mom on life support long enough to do a c-section. Behind that bad-boy attitude, he really was a nice guy – he was the same as Erica. He put up walls to protect himself, so the thing with his adoptive parents never happened again. Even so, he started to open up. He said how he loved lacrosse, wanting to take it further, become a professional – though he was going to get another job, just in case. I also found out that, surprisingly, the blonde and I had the same taste in music, giving us a lot to talk about at some point.

With Lydia I already knew about the genius IQ and the Archaic Latin. But she already knew that I knew that. So, she told me about how she would play dumb in high school, just so people wouldn't pick on her for it – it was a cruel world after all – deciding to keep her grades and smarts between her and her teachers. But now, at university, she prefers showing it a bit more. She loved to swim and ice-skate. No real reason as to why, only that she loved it. She even let slip how Jackson always went with her whenever she wanted to go do one or the other.

Peter completely dropped the sass and the sarcasm when it came to him. He looked serious and genuine, a look I had only seen a few times so far. He said how, before the fire, he used to be just like everyone else. He went to work, he earned money, he loved his family. He said how living with his Pack/family made him feel more human. Which was why he switched so badly when he came back around and turned psycho for a while. He said how he regretted what he had done, but was grateful for where he was now. It was after that that he went back to the Peter I knew. He said how he always loved to annoy the '_pups_', especially Derek – I guess Derek was a '_pup_' to Peter, even if it was his nephew –, watch them squirm while making them slightly uncomfortable. By the slightly green look on Scott's face, I could only guess that the boy knew only too well.

Scott's parents were divorced, mom worked as a nurse and he worked with Deaton at the vets office. I already knew he liked Batman, but life was made better when I found out he liked pretty much everything from the Marvel and DC worlds – just like Isaac. I loved the fact that I had found two awesome people I could geek out with, without feeling self-conscious. Scott, also, used to be asthmatic before being turned, which was an up point to receiving the bite – not that he said that last part. He also said how he liked to just chill out and play video games all the time, and I swore I could have died! It was needless to say that Scott now had a new games buddy!

Now I know what you're wondering. _What about Derek?_

Well, Derek was being a Sourwolf and wouldn't say anything. He just stayed quiet and refused to talk, the others telling me that nothing would work.

I silently vowed that I would get him to open up.

"I do have _one _question for you." Allison said. "The rumour about you doing porn for money... Can you set that one straight for us, because none of us can tell?"

Looking around at all of them, it was hard to miss the poorly disguised curiosity. So I had to laugh a little.

"I'll say it simply, I'm a virgin." I grinned. "I've done some fucked up things for money before, but _never _sex."

I couldn't help the grin that was basically plastered to my face, though it dropped ever so slightly after I saw a bright flash.

Blinking to get my eyes back to normally, I saw Peter setting down a camera.

Raising an eyebrow, I waited for his explanation.

"I want evidence that you do actually smile sometimes." he sighed, as if it was obvious.

I guess it kind of was obvious though...

* * *

Later on, we were in the living room, watching a movie. To this day, I cannot remember what we were watching; only that it was _boring as hell_! But I was being forced to watch it.

I ended up lying on the floor, next to Isaac who was sitting in between Danny's legs and leaning back against the couch. It was weird thinking that everyone had a place in the living room – me especially – but it worked... At least no one fought over where they had to sit.

Everything was going fine, _until _I heard the whip crack.

Now, I thought I was getting better with seeing something's on TV. I didn't freak out if someone got too close to the fire, or punched... But I hadn't gotten used to the whips, especially since this was the first time hearing one since I ran away.

I don't remember diving away from everyone, but the next thing I knew I was on the other side of the room, getting as close to the door as possible.

And then something new happened.

_**FLASHBACK – Saturday, September 25**__**th**__** 2010 – 16 year old Stiles**_

_Christmas Day. _

_I know what you're thinking: 'it's Christmas, surely Stiles' dad would give him a break.'_

_Well, you're wrong. If anything, it could even worse around holidays. _

_I was dragged down into the basement at five in the morning and I was never let out until eleven in the evening, the next day. I was always chained to the wall by my wrists, on this day though I usually had a chain around my neck. _

_John - there were days where I refused to call him dad – would always have been drinking since late in the evening on Christmas Eve, so he was happily plastered by the time he dragged me down to the basement and chained me. _

_I just wanted to end it all. Put an end to me. But everything he did always go so much worse when he found out that I did that..._

_But yeah, Christmas and I was in the basement, cowering in the corner that I was chained to, as John stalked closer with a mini-blow torch in hand. I already knew what was coming, but it never stopped me from trying to get away at first, trying to get him to stop. _

_But it never worked. _

"_Who needs a turkey, when you got a chicken?" John laughed, voice slurring as he threw his empty beer bottle at me, the bottle smashing just over my head, making the shattered glass rain down on my head._

"_Please don't." I whimpered, staring wide eyed at the blue flame from the mini-blow torch. "Please... Dad..."_

_**END FLASHBACK – Back to: Sunday, December 8**__**th**__** 2013**_

But then something different happened.

The scene of my dad and I faded, coming to light on a younger version of Isaac and his dad.

_**FLAHBACK – Friday, August 19**__**th**__** 2011 – 16 year old Isaac**_

"_Please, dad, no!" I begged. "Please, not the freezer again!"_

_I was already black and blue from him hitting me, the last thing I wanted was to go into that...thing again!_

_I couldn't say how many times he had stuffed me into that freezer over the years. I couldn't say how many times I had begged for him to no to do, to stop. I couldn't say how many times he had beaten me black and blue. I couldn't say why he did this to me, pretty much every day._

_Because I didn't know any of the answers to them._

"_I promise I won't do it again!" I tried._

_I didn't even know what I had supposedly done. I hadn't talked to anyone, I was doing my work, and I think I was keeping my grades at a C or above. I hadn't done anything – that I knew of – to make him do any of this!_

_Apart from, maybe, that he wanted to._

_That he enjoyed seeing me suffer._

_That he enjoyed hearing me scream and cry and yell, when he knew no one would come and help me._

_He enjoyed seeing me in pain._

_He lifted me easily, even as I tried to get out of his hold, slamming me down into the freezer with perfect ease._

"Please don't do this again!"_ I screamed, shaking all over as panic settled in a warms tears ran down my face to mix with the blood. _"What did I do?!"

_But he never answered._

_**END FLASHBACK – Back to: Sunday, December 8**__**th**__** 2013**_

I only came out of the memories of mine and Isaac's when I found I couldn't breathe. The panic attack Isaac had started to have in that memory had made it so _I _was having a panic attack.

That had never happened to me before.

What surprised me, though, was that, after a few seconds, I started to be able to breathe again, the only thing I noticed being a warm had on the back of my neck.

I didn't look up at any of them, just dropped my head into my knees, groaning quietly.

"Sorry..." I whispered, shaking a little. "Haven't had a proper panic attack in years."

* * *

That was when it started. I kept shaking.

I was always flinching.

I was jumpy and avoiding everyone. I even made it a habit to wake up before everyone as early as I could so I could leave the house before all of them, leave the school as quickly as I could so I could climb through the window of my room, _and_ just generally staying locked inside my room.

The thing is, it did give me more time to continue working on the picture I had been drawing on one of my large canvases.

Giving my mind something else to think about, just doing something else, helped me to forget for a little while, just so I could get that sense of just being alright again. But sooner or later I would remember or someone would remind me of it – accidentally, if it was the Pack.

I think they realised that this was going to take some time though, so no one pushed it.

They all just left me to it.

Even Derek didn't do or say anything. He just let me be by myself.

For some unknown reason, I was a little disappointed with that...

* * *

Wednesday, December 18th. Only two more days and we were off for winter break.

I had only just escaped art, with Gabriel right behind me, using those stupid names and trying – yet again – to get me to say yes to going out with him.

_As if! _I would _never _date him!

I had decided to try and ignore him, only acknowledge him if he tried to touch me again, or something. And then, and only then, would I speak to him, telling him to fuck off before I report him for harassment. Peter would back me up, so would Derek and most likely Isaac. Surely I would win that case...

Getting to my Jeep without tearing Gabriel apart was a miracle in itself. There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to just rip the guy's throat out. Or, you know, go all wolfy/foxy on him. At least, that way, I could attack with people thinking it was an animal.

When I had gotten back to the house, I was out my Jeep – locking it as I ran – in a flash, hopping up into the trees, before jumping into the open window of my room. I knew it was stupid to be hiding from them all, but...staying around them all would just make me worse at this moment in time.

It didn't even register that I was so tired I was about to pass out. Not even when I lay down and fell asleep.

* * *

**Derek**

I didn't like it.

I _really _didn't like it.

Stiles hadn't spoken to any of us or talked to any of us for eleven days, and no one was in the best state of mind. Everyone was worrying – even Jackson and Peter were, a little.

So, it was on the Wednesday – December 18th – that I had decided enough was enough.

It had just gone seven that evening when I stood up from my chair, heading towards the stairs without a moment's hesitation. It was ridiculous for him to hide out... He should know by now that he shouldn't have to do that.

Not with us.

So, once I had sprinted up the last set of stairs and was facing Stiles' bedroom door, I took out the key – as Alpha, I had a key to every lock in this house – opening the door wide enough for me to slip in, before closing it again.

I didn't expect Stiles to be, nor did I expect to see what was in the bed with him.

Getting a little closer, I confirmed that what I was seeing was a black wolf cub stuffed animal, with red eyes. I stopped in my tracks as soon as I saw it, all frustration leaving when I laid eyes on such a familiar toy.

I walked a little closer, staying as silent as I could. The memory was just there, but all I could remember was that black wolf being held...but I couldn't see by whom...

"_OH MY GOD!"_ the yell brought me back to where I was.

Stiles' heartbeat increased slightly from the initial panic, only calming down once he turned the lamp by his bed on and saw – fully saw – that it was only me.

"What the hell dude?!" Stiles shrieked, eyes wide.

"Who gave you that?" I asked, nodding towards wolf cub.

He tilted his head to the side, like a confused puppy... It was rather endearing when Stiles did it. But then he looked down to where I was looking, hiding the toy behind his back as fast as he could.

"Nothing." he muttered, quickly, a faded red colouring his face and stretching down under his t-shirt.

I just watched him, standing there with my arms folded across my chest.

Stiles cracked faster than I thought he would.

"My mom gave it to me, when I was...for my third birthday, I think it was." Stiles sighed, his tone soft. "She said her friend's son, the middle child, found it and wanted me to have it for my birthday... I only met him a couple of times and he was, about, seven years older than me...but he was the closest thing I had to a friend."

I nodded. _Huh..._

"Yeah, he was cool. So was his two sisters." he continued. "And his uncle was alright too, though they were more like brothers, since the uncle was only, like, ten years older than him. I loved their family. They were all so nice..."

I nodded again, sitting at the edge of Stiles' bed. Stiles moved until he sat next to me, legs crossed with the wolf toy in his lap, one hand holding it as the other stroked the fake fur.

"There are some nights when I can't sleep without Wolfy – that's what I named it." Stiles added, quieter now.

Slowly, I reached over and placed a hand on Stiles' knee. He didn't flinch away like I was expecting...he just looked up. During these moments, or moments when he remembered something from his past, he always looked so much younger than he was. Like a frightened child...

It just made me even more adamant to protect him.

To hold him and never let him go.

And that had never happened before.

"Come down stairs." I said. "You don't have to be like this with us... We can help."

Stiles' shoulders sagged forward, as he leant to the side until he was leaning into me with his head on my shoulder.

"I don't know if you can." he whispered. "There are things you don't know and I can't tell any of you yet... I have all of Isaac's memories of his dad in my head, mixing with my own... I don't think you'll be able to help."

I couldn't help it. I moved my hand from his knee until my arm was around him, hand on the arm not resting on me.

I thought for sure he would move away...and I couldn't help but smile a little when he didn't.

"Well, we're going to try anyway." I told him. "_I'm_ going to try."

And if I heard a small sniff and felt a drop of water on my shoulder, I didn't say a thing. Nothing at all.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD **_


	22. Food Shopping

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe), Mrs Jones.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please review XD **

**Chapter 21**

**Stiles**

Friday, December 20th. School had just finished and it was time to head home. I was pretty much beaming, since that meant I wouldn't have to step foot into that building until January 6th, when Christmas vacation was over.

Which meant I didn't have to see Gabe for a while...

Thank _fuck _for that!

So, I was walking through the halls with Allison, Erica and Lydia – Erica came to find us after Allison, Lydia and I had finished our English class – trying to move through the mass of students, to get to the school's parking lot. We did this every Friday...well; we didn't when I was avoiding them all, but before that and now we did that every Friday.

It was strange to think that I had fallen so easily into this routine with all of them so quickly, when I always tried to stay as far away from people as possible – and vice versa. But the Pack...they were different. They were kind; caring...they actually _wanted me_. No one wanted _me_.

But they did. And they made it _very _obvious. Especially since Wednesday.

"Five days until Christmas!" Allison squealed, elbowing me slightly. "You excited?"

"Not really..." I mumbled. "Things usually got worse on Christmas day..."

I realised, belatedly, that I shouldn't have mentioned that...especially since it sent the three of them into a fit, yelling about how they had to make it '_the best Christmas _ever'. I would have been worried, if it wasn't funny to watch or quite touching that they would do that for me...

Huh... I never thought this would ever happen...

The three of them were going on about..._something _to do with decorations and getting Derek to agree, just as we stepped out of the building and into the parking lot. I couldn't help but grin over at the guys as they heard what the girls were going on about, seeing their amused faces.

We had just got to the bottom of the stairs and I thought that, maybe, today would be the only day where I hadn't seen Gabriel. He hadn't been lingering in the hallways after any of my lessons or free periods and I hadn't seen him at all. It was like a Christmas miracle!

But then I saw him.

He was leaning against the wall we were just about to pass, pushing off when I walked close enough.

"Hey there, Sexy." Gabriel grinned, falling into step beside me.

"Fuck off." I sighed.

"Oh, Stiles, don't be like that." Erica said, rolling her eyes. "He's only being nice. Give the guy a chance."

It was official, Erica and gone absolutely _insane_! I told her as such, which caused her to walk off in a huff, followed by Allison and Lydia – well, Allison was dragged...

_Why couldn't Derek be here already?!_

I only realised I had stopped walking when I turned around, after hearing someone laughing. Gabriel was still standing there, wide smile in place, chuckling a little at the reaction of the blonde.

"You're friends are pretty cool, Angel Face." Gabriel told me.

"Stop it!" I growled. "For the love of God, stop it and leave me alone!"

"There's only one way I'll leave you alone, Bright Eyes."

Gabriel stepped closer to me, which made me take an immediate step backwards. Of course, I hadn't realised we had switched places until my back hit the wall of the school building.

Gabriel didn't stop.

He just got closer and closer.

My heart rate sped up, my throat tightened. All I wanted was to get away, but any time I was put in this position before... Well, it never ended well for me...

"I'm _not _going on a date with you, Jackass. I don't want to!" I muttered, my voice surprisingly steady. "So, just leave me alone."

"That's a lie, if I ever heard one, Cowboy." Gabriel chuckled, stepping closer still. "I know you want it."

"Leave me alone."

"Come on, Doll Face."

"_He said, leave him alone." _a voice growled.

Gabriel spun round so fast that he almost fell over. But he didn't. The blonde backed up a little as he came face to face with a pissed off and glaring Derek, his heart beating like a drum.

I let out a relieved sigh and slouched back into the wall, now I knew someone was here to help me. I didn't hear anything that was being said, only a reassuring murmur in my ear before a hand was on my shoulder and steering me away.

The last I saw of Gabriel that day was his leaning against the wall, looking like a ghost.

Yeah, I _definitely_ had feelings for the Big Bad Wolf.

* * *

I was actually, surprisingly, very happy when we got home – _man, I kept saying that..._ I mean, the look on Gabriel's face after Derek showed up was priceless! I just wished I had a camera for that moment...

We were all sitting in the living room – the usual place we all congregated – in our usual positions. I had one of my sketch pads out again – seriously, Derek keeps leaving art supplies on the desk in my room, when I'm not around – drawing one of the images I had stowed away in my head.

It was of Talia again, but this time with her husband Oliver and her brother...I think her brother was called Peter. I remember them standing outside their house as they watched mom and I drive up, the three of them smiling easily.

I had pretty much every single metal case of sketching and coloured pencils next to me, each one of them open with a piece of paper next to them so I could test the shade of each one before I decided which to use. The thing with drawing, for me, is – like music – helps me forget everything for a little while, which in turn made me block out going on around me at the time. It always happened, but I never knew why.

"So... Are you _really _still a virgin?" a voice close to me asked, snapping me out of my little bubble.

"Huh?" I asked, looking up, stopping the pencil in my hand. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Are you _really _still a virgin?" Erica repeated.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes as turned my head down towards the pad again, returning the pencil back to the paper. I nodded anyway, answering her question anyway, just so she wouldn't keep bugging me with it – I knew she would, it was obvious.

"How? How can you live like that?" she questioned it.

"Easy. I'm doing it right now." I replied.

"Don't you, I don't know, miss it?"

"You can't miss what you never had. Besides, why would I? You know about Zane and what he tried to pull."

That had the desired effect, she went quiet. Everyone did. They all just went back to watching TV while I turned back to the picture.

* * *

"Hey, Stiles, what are you drawing?" Isaac asked from where he was sitting next to me.

"Dude, you can see it if you just lean over." I told him, laughing a little.

"Yeah, but you asked us to stop looking at what you draw."

Oh yeah... How could I forget that? Sighing a little, I turned the – now finished – picture towards him, showing Talia, Oliver and Talia's younger brother Peter standing in front of a house.

Everyone else pretty much gathered around, trying to get a look t it.

Of course, I can't say I expected Peter and Derek's reactions though...

The two Hales tensed up, eyes wide, as they stared at the paper. A scent of pain, anger and sadness washed over the two, for reasons I did not know. The other wolves caught it too looking up at the two older wolves with concern.

Slowly, I closed my sketch pad, suddenly feeling guilty for causing such a reaction.

"A-Are you two alright?" I asked, hesitantly.

The two nodded stiffly, not taking their eyes off of the pad I held in my hands.

"I think you broke them, Stilinski." Jackson muttered.

"Well, I didn't mean to, Whittemore." I mumbled back.

Even though I couldn't see him, I knew Jackson was smirking a little.

"Stiles... Who are those people?" Peter finally asked in a small voice.

"Friends of my mom..." I explained, carefully. "I only met them and their family, about, five times, maybe a little more, but they were nice people. My mom knew Talia – the woman in the picture – when they were in high school, they even went to the same college. Mom knew Talia was a werewolf and Talia knew what mom was... They were good friends. The other two are..._were _Talia's husband, Oliver, and her younger brother, I think his name was Peter, like yours."

Peter nodded glancing over at Derek. The younger Hale looked as if he had seen a ghost and I still, for the life of me, couldn't figure out why.

* * *

Late Saturday morning, when everyone was awake, I decided to go for a run. Of course, I was doing this run a little different. I shifted into my fox when upstairs, trotting down the stairs, making sure someone noticed me leave the house – Danny in this case –, so they knew where I had gone.

I remember it had been strange the first time I had run as a fox, a little freaked out about everything being so low down and seeing things differently to how I usually did. Of course, I had gotten used to that now, embracing the newness of how I saw things, compared to how I did on a daily bases.

I liked the wind through my fur and the earth under my paws. I liked the speed and agility that came with being so small.

I just liked it.

Being like this...I just got to let everything go and run. Give into half of the animal side of me and just not care about anything to do with being human.

I think I may have stayed a wolf or a fox forever, if I didn't have a home or people to go back to now.

It was still strange to me.

_Home._

I don't think I was ever going to get used to that. Not ever.

* * *

When I got back to the house, a few hours later, I glanced through the window to the living room briefly. I smiled as much as I could as a fox, seeing everyone gathered together.

_This was home._

I made my way slowly – as a fox – towards the house, using my paw to softly know the wood, to get one of them to open the door. I didn't have to wait long, since someone opened the door after a few seconds of me standing there.

I looked up into the eyes of Peter, the older Hale smirking down at me.

"Stiles is back." he told the others, as I walked through the door.

I stretched a little once inside the warm house, the lower half of my fox-shifted body bending to the floor. Peter just chuckled before walking back into the living room.

I had just started to walk up the stairs when I caught sight of Derek sitting in his armchair, in the living room, when I looked back at them all. He looked so..._sad_. Something inside me ached, almost pulling me towards him, telling me to go make everything alright.

That was the last thing I remembered.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning, I was human again. I stretched lazily, before padding over to my attached bathroom to brush my teeth and, uh, _take care of business_.

Once back in my room, I pulled on the pyjamas that I must have forgotten to put on last night – _man, that must have been some run_ –, so I was at least _a little _presentable to go out of my room.

Looking at the clock in the kitchen, I found that I was up later than normal, but I still had enough time to make breakfast before everyone appeared.

Which was exactly what happened.

Breakfast and coffee was ready _just _as people walked in and took their seats at the table, yawning slightly as they tried to wake up fully.

"So, Stiles," Peter started, smirking a little, when we were all eating, everyone else – except Derek – giggling. "What was with Derek guarding last night, after your run?"

"My what?" I asked, frowning up at the older wolf.

"Oh, you can't tell me you don't remember!"

"That's what I'm telling you. And you can tell I'm not lying."

Everyone went quiet. Well, as quiet as you could while nine people at the table were snickering.

"What did I do?" I sighed, already knowing I didn't want to know.

**Derek: **_**Saturday, December 21**__**st**__** 2013 – After Stiles Got Back From His Run **_

_I couldn't help what I felt after seeing that picture Stiles drew. I mean, it was of my mom, my dad and my uncle!_

_It was then that I realised why I recognised the black wolf cub Stiles had in his room. It was then that I remembered who was holding it in my memory. It was then I remember the little kid who visited very rarely, but was still my greatest friend, even if he was seven years younger than me. _

_I had met Stiles before. I _knew_ Stiles and his mom. And Stiles knew me and my family, even if he didn't recognise Peter and me._

_I thought about this all the while Stiles was out for his run, even when he came back. Nothing and no one had been able to drag me away from my thoughts._

_Well, that _was_ the case. But it seemed like a lap full of Stiles in fox form was enough to drag me out of my head._

_He had pretty much curled up on my lap, head facing me. His – purple – eyes were wide, almost sad, his ears drooping slightly like a dog's. I place my hands either side of him, starting to lift him up to move him, when he started to growl viciously. _

_I looked over at the rest of the Pack, who seemed just as shocked as I did. _

"_I suggest you put him down, nephew." Peter said. "It seems that Mr Stilinski is not a fan of being manhandled."_

_Rolling my eyes, I placed the Stiles fox on the floor, beside my chair, before leaning back into the cushions. Of course, then he was back on my lap. _

_This went on a couple of times: me moving him, Stiles growling, me placing him on the floor, Stiles jumping back onto my lap. This happened for five minutes, before I just gave in and left him, curled up on my lap. _

_The rest of the Pack had no problem laughing at my expense, since I couldn't move. Though I couldn't help but chuckle slightly whenever Stiles growled at anyone who tried to touch me or him – he almost bit Jackson... _

_At one point, I noticed that my right hand had dropped, idly stroking the soft, short fur on the top of his head, between his ears. Fox-Stiles leaned into my hand, nuzzling it slightly and licking my wrist sometimes. _

_It should have been weird. It should have been strange._

_But it felt right._

_It was when everyone was going to bed that I had a small challenge._

_I had to carry Stiles up the stairs, since he refused to let me put him down. So far, everything was fine. I had just placed him on his bed, once I was in his room, and I was about to leave... When he_ whimpered_!_

_Fox-Stiles whimpered, because I was about to leave the room._

_What even was this?! _

_I made the mistake of looking back, the small fox – a fox that still looked a lot like a cub, except in height – was sat up, shoulders sagged and head bowed. His tail was curled around him, his eyes wide and still looking as upset as they had earlier. _

_It reminded me of how I had found him Wednesday night... And, after that realisation, I just couldn't leave. Not until I knew he was asleep and wouldn't wake up if I moved him and left. _

_So, walking back over to his bed, I kicked off my boots, picking up the surprisingly small fox, before lying down with him next to me. Of course, Stiles didn't like that very much, instead hopping onto my chest and curling up into a tiny ball, paws hidden and tail wrapped around him. _

_He looked kind of cute like this – _I will refuse ever thinking that!

_And I stayed there, until he was deep asleep and I was able to lay him under the covers of his bed and sneak into my own room._

**Stiles: **_**Back to Sunday December 22**__**nd**__** 2013 – Kitchen Table**_

"It was _highly _entertaining." Peter chuckled.

To say I was mortified was an understatement. I was glowing bright red and I just wanted to go and hide.

_Did what I did last night mean anything?_

* * *

Monday, 23rd December.

I, along with everyone else, was dragged to the nearest supermarket, so we could start gathering food for Christmas.

Now, you're probably thinking that it was boring and useless and all that stuff, thinking how it should just be the parents – or in this case, Peter and Derek.

But I liked it.

I liked being out and helping make decisions, especially when I was being _asked_. It was a nice feeling, being wanted. Of course, Jackson complained. Lydia complained. Erica complained.

Everyone complained a little.

Well, everyone but Isaac and me.

We were the only two that really seemed to appreciate the normalcy of just simple food shopping. That was probably why the two of us were so..._enthusiastic _to help.

We had gone down the fruit and vegetable aisle, when it first happened. This little old woman had been walking down the aisle, when her basket toppled over, everything spilling out.

And no one stopped to help her.

So, putting down whatever I was holding, I jogged over to her, helping to pick up all the things that had fallen out.

"There you go, ma'am." I smiled, once everything was put away again. "Would you like me to help you with the rest of you shopping?"

"Oh, that would be lovely, young man." she replied, taking hold of my arm to help her walk. "You don't get many like you nowadays."

"No, ma'am."

"And so polite too. This is just my lucky day."

* * *

For about an hour, I helped Mrs Jones – the old woman – with her shopping. She told me stories of her children and grandchildren, stories about when she was a little girl. It felt nice that she seemed to trust me enough to tell me these things.

She even asked about me. Where I was originally from, what I'm doing now. Things like that. I could sense that it was ok to tell her these things, somehow knowing that she wouldn't be like any of the other assholes around town.

"You are such a delightful young man, helping an old bag like me." she said, as we walked towards the car she had gotten here in.

"You're not an '_old bag_', you're a great woman." I told her.

"Oh, such a sweetie."

I couldn't help but smile. The woman reminded me of my own grandma. Well, when she was still alive...

Once we got to the car, I opened the trunk with one hand, since Mrs Jones was still holding onto my other arm. She only let go once I started to load her bags into the trunk of her car and she was leaning on the side of the car.

I was down to the last few bags, listening to Mrs Jones talk about how the town used to be when she was a little younger, telling me about a few good places to go. I thought that I was going to be able to finish helping her without any trouble from anyone.

And then someone – I assume her daughter – got out of the car.

She had obviously only _just_ seen me, which was why she was only getting out now, stalking around to where Mrs Jones and I were.

"Get away from my mother!" the younger woman shrieked. "How dare you harass an old woman."

Of course that would happen...

"Ma'am, I am simply helping your elderly mother with her groceries, since you refuse to." I sighed, continuing to pack away the bags.

* * *

Once I was done, Mrs Jones offered me a few bucks for giving her a helping hand, but I refused. I wasn't about to take money from someone because I offered to help them. That just wasn't right...

So, once I had finished up, I said my goodbyes and went back to find the others.

Along my way, I asked a few others if they needed help. Some accepted...others just scoffed and said they'd rather not be associated with the likes of me. I just shrugged it off, saying that was there decision, as I continued on my way to find everyone else.

I found them all picking out a turkey. They were split in half, saying one was better that the other. It was a fairly amusing sight.

"Get both." I chuckled, walking towards them. "We're gunna need them."

"There you are!" Allison sighed. "You just disappeared."

"I was helping someone."

I should have been a little hurt by the look of surprise on their faces... But I just found it funny.

* * *

As we continued to walk around the store, I kept helping a few people, earning a thankful yet slightly shocked look from them all. I even caught the Pack glancing my way looking a little more surprised than before.

Of course, people kept scoffing and walking away.

"Why do you keep asking if they need help?" Derek asked, this being one of very few things he had said to me after Sunday.

"No one was around to help me when I really needed it, before I met you guys... So, why not help these people?" I shrugged.

I just carried on down the aisle, leaving them behind a little to dwell on what I had said.

While I waited at the end of the aisle, just looking over a few things on the shelves, I noticed a rather short man trying to reach for something on a shelf he couldn't reach. So, naturally, I walked over and asked if he would like me to get it for him.

"I don't need someone like _you _doing anything for me!" he spat. "Stay away from me, you disgusting person."

I shook my head slightly, as I turned around, finding the Pack watching on, all of them glaring after the man.

"They don't even want your help, yet you still offer it." Peter mused, looking back to me, his eyes softened a great deal.

"I may not like or trust anyone in here, a part from the end of you of course, but they are still people." I replied. "And you never know when they need a bit of help."

* * *

Back home, after everything was put away in the kitchen, I grabbed the few cases of beer I managed to get from the store. When people don't want you around, they never seem to ask for ID...

So, it looked like I was getting drunk this holiday.

Even after all these years, it was hard without mom. Before, I would normally be locked in a basement, too focused on the pain I was feeling to think about anything else... But this was the first Christmas in five/six years that I was actually going to celebrate.

The first time in five/six years that I was going to be able to move around.

The first time in five/six years that I was going to be able to smile and laugh... Instead of cry and be all bloody.

It was a lot to take in.

So I settled for getting pissed.

I had enough to last me until tomorrow as well, so I was going to be one happy camper.

Being part fox didn't just slow down my healing time, but it also allowed for me to get drunk – no high, never high. I had first found out after a week of being with Zane – a friend of his was having a party and I thought I would try it...it ended with me getting plastered, but I was in control of every decision I made.

Sighing a little, I leaned back against the wall of the house, from where I sat on the porch. Looking out and up at the stars I could see in the sky, I lifted the bottle in my hand slightly.

"Miss you mom." I whispered. "I love you and I wish you were here... You would love them all."

Feeling my eyes stinging a bit, I brought the neck of the bottle to my mouth, tilting it back to pour some of the cold bitter liquid down my throat.

I wished my mom was with me... But at least I wasn't completely alone anymore.

* * *

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	23. Christmas Day

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please review XD **

**Chapter 22**

**Stiles**

Christmas Eve went just the same as the evening before – me drinking on the porch. I stayed out there for as long as I could, just tipping the cold and bitter liquid down my throat.

They all tried to get me inside at one time or another, or at least to try to stop me drinking. But they couldn't get me to do anything of the sort.

There was one point were everyone kind of left the house, leaving only Isaac and me behind. The Pup just sat next to me, saying nothing. He was the kind of company I needed at times like these. Because he knew what I had been through and vice versa.

But I ended up giving Isaac one of the beers and telling him everything.

"You know you can't keep this a secret from them forever, right?" Isaac asks, staring down at the bottle in his hands.

"Yeah, I know..." I sighed, quietly. "I just can't, right now."

"I get it, I do. But at some point you need to tell them. They helped me... We can all do the same for you too. You can't just drown yourself in booze, or lock yourself away in your room, or avoid us for the rest of your life."

The kid was right. I knew the kid was right. And I could admit that.

But it was easy to admit that someone else is right, than admitting your past to people.

* * *

I woke up in the morning at six in the morning.

It took me a moment to kind of register where I was, remember that I was in my room at the Hale house and not in my dad's bedroom.

Groaning from the dull throb in my head – _hello, hangover _– I dragged myself out of bed, walking around like a zombie until I was actually ready to go downstairs.

I was the only one up – obviously – since it was so early in the morning. But, hey, if you wanted to cook a Christmas dinner, sometimes you would have to get up early. When I was, about, seven, I remember waking up early to help my mom cook on Christmas. That was the first time I had ever helped out with cooking a Christmas dinner.

As I walked past the living room – heading to the kitchen – I caught the sparkle of the lights of the tree. I stopped for a moment, looking over to it and just...smiling.

_**FLASHBACK: Friday December 13**__**th**__** 2013**_

"_Come on, Stiles!" Allison giggled, dragging me into the living room by the wrist. "You _have_ to help!"_

"_Well, I don't _have_ to..." I started, but still letting the human hunter pull me along._

_We had already decorated the house, each of us putting up decorations in our own rooms. I had been pulled between different rooms to help out – including the kitchen, living room, and the outside of the house – and now I was being dragged back into the living room, from the front porch._

_To help put up and decorate the fake tree. _

_The last time I decorated a tree for Christmas, I was nine. It was the last Christmas I spent with my mom. The last Christmas I_ ever_ celebrated. When the Pack found that out, they pretty much freaked, demanding that I was having the decision in everything Christmas-y related. _

_I didn't think they actually meant it..._

_But they did. It really did mean a lot._

"So, Stiles. What colour tinsel?"

"Star or angel?"

"Fake snow, yay or nay?"

_I was asked so many questions at once that not even my enhanced hearing could make them all out._

_But instead of flinching back like I used to at all the noise...I just laughed. _

_I don't know who it shocked more, me or them... But I couldn't stop laughing long enough to think about it. _

_**END OF FLASHBACK: Back to Wednesday, 25**__**th**__** December 2013**_

The tree had red and blue lights, gold and silver tinsel, and a range of different ornaments and baubles, with an angel on the top. I remember how some of them – Lydia – didn't think that any of it would work... But they – Lydia – were happily surprised when they saw it all finished and standing proudly in the corner of the living room.

It was a little strange, seeing a Christmas tree and presents and decorations again, especially in the place that I know considered home. I mean, it was a nice strange...but strange none the less.

* * *

Moving around the kitchen, I set about making breakfast, as well as starting on the turkey and other Christmas-y food. Man, if people thought making dinner for their family at Christmas was hard, they should try making it for nine werewolves and one human, as well as themselves!

It makes everything so much more hectic.

But it was worth it. These guys had already done so much for me in the short amount of time that I had known them, and they probably would be eating out or ordering in if I was cooking... It was the least I could do after everything...

Besides, I loved to cook. It reminded me of the days where I didn't have to worry about anything...

But it also meant I would be out of everyone's hair for the majority of the day, leaving them to celebrate properly, so I didn't bum them out with anything I did or said.

I had to try to keep this happy.

* * *

Two hours after the others had come downstairs, exchanging a 'Merry Christmas' with the everyone else and eating breakfast after they had showed up, they were now all in the living room, the TV on a channel that was playing Christmas films all day.

It was after those two hours that I heard footsteps coming closer, stopping just inside the doorway to the kitchen.

Glancing behind me, I found Peter standing there, leaning against the doorframe, and staring down at the ground a little. If I had my back turned to the door then the older wolf was still hesitant to walk in... I felt a little guilty about that, but Peter had assured me countless times that he was like that because he didn't want me to have any more unnecessary panic while living in the house.

"Hey, Peter-Creeper." I grinned, turning back to...well, I can't actually remember – by this time everything I was doing had just blurred together. "You need anything?"

"Oh, no." the older Hale replied, clearing his throat and walking further into the kitchen. "I was just wondering if you wanted any assistance."

Now, that made me stop.

I dropped the knife I was using onto the chopping board, spinning around to pretty much stare at him, as if he had just suddenly sprouted another head.

"Sorry... Could you repeat that?" I asked, slowly.

"Would you like any help?" Peter asked, frowning, as if what he said was the simplest thing in the world.

To anyone else, it would have been.

To me? It was something that I hadn't heard in years.

No one had asked me if I had wanted help with anything, and I told Peter as much. People had just always left me to it, leaving me to find my own way around things. Even back in Dallas people saw me as a hindrance, wanting to stay as far away from the 'troubled' kid as possible, leaving his '_Saint_' of a father to deal with him.

No one had ever asked if I wanted help before.

And even though this was just for cooking...it still meant a lot to me.

"You know how to make anything?" I asked, smiling slightly.

"Not at all." Peter grinned. "But I am always ready to learn something new."

* * *

In the end I had Peter, Boyd, Danny, Erica and Jackson in the kitchen, helping me cook. Any time I asked why they were helping; one of them would just shrug and say how it's not fair that I should be left to do everything, when I do that every day.

I tried telling them that I _wanted _to do it for them, but they wouldn't listen. They would just ignore my complaining and carry on with the task I had shown them how to do, while they muttered about how they _wanted _to help.

I caught myself thinking about how great each and every one of these people really was.

They took me in off of the streets.

They stood up against class mates for and with me.

They – well, Derek – helped me with Zane, and Isaac with everything else.

They befriend me.

They helped me when I really needed it...

My luck had started to change when I met them, because now there were people who were willing to look out for me, for nothing in return. They had given me everything I thought I could never have – that I _still_ thought I couldn't have.

They had helped me to start to trust again. Letting me see that, sometimes, it was good to take a chance in someone. Because that's what they did with me.

They all took a chance in me. Just like I took a chance on all of them.

I couldn't bring myself to regret that decision.

* * *

Lunch was actually great.

Everything that Peter, Boyd, Erica, Danny and Jackson had helped make tasted _awesome_, the turkey wasn't dry... The taste brought back a lot of good memories and, at the moment, it was starting a lot more.

The meal went by just like any other, only this time we all practically _forced _one of those paper crown things onto Derek's head... It took a lot less persuading than I had first thought, especially since after I had asked him – throwing in my own puppy eyes for good measure – he did it straight away.

I would have thought more about what that meant, and probably have glared at the others for their comments and smirks and wiggling eyebrows, but I was too distracted by the small smile and colour on Derek's face...

It wasn't too long after we finished that we all found ourselves in the living room, everyone deciding to leave washing up until tomorrow.

In the living room, everyone was sitting on the floor next to their other half, which left Derek, Peter and I sitting fairly close together but with a little distance between us. Everyone was taking it in turns to open gifts and it was easy to decide on who was first.

I mean, why would we wait to see Isaac's face just light up?

Especially when he saw just how much he got. And when he saw who gave some of them to him.

"Told you Santa was real." Isaac muttered, childishly sticking his tongue out at Jackson before ripping into the paper.

_**FLASHBACK – Thursday, December 19**__**th**__** 2013**_

_After school, I was sitting in the living room, curled up in one corner of the couch, happily sketching the Christmas tree sat opposite me, in the corner of the living room. Everything was quiet, everything was calm._

_The only thing that would make it better would be if it were snowing._

_But that seemed a little_ too_ perfect._

_Right now, I was just content for this. I liked what was happening now._

_Well, I did until an_ extremely_ upset Isaac stormed into the room, throwing himself down onto the couch, with four of the Betas following him. _

_Anger, hurt and sadness in its purest form emitted of the kid, immediately making both my wolf and fox whine. So, placing my sketching pencil between the two pages, I closed my sketching pad and placed it down on the coffee table, before turning towards them all._

"_Jackson, stop it!" Allison yelled._

"_No! He has to grow up at some point!" Jackson shouted. "I just seem to be the only one with enough balls to tell him!"_

"_What the hell's going on?" I interrupted, all of them spinning around now they knew I was there._

_Danny looked murderous, looking like he was going to kill his best friend; Allison looked as if she wanted to beat Jackson round the head repeatedly; Erica looked seconds away from shifting and attacking Jackson; Jackson himself just looked fed up. _

"_Jackson's being a douche!" Danny growled, angrily._

_I actually took a step back in surprise, since the Danny I had come to know was nothing like this... I guess it was a completely different story when it came to Isaac._

"_Well, I gathered that much myself." I nodded. "What did_ _he_ do_?"_

"_All I did was tell Isaac that Santa does._ Not_. Exist." Jackson hissed.__"He's too old to believe in some old guy coming down the chimney or whatever."_

_A spike of anger and a heavier scent of sadness overwhelmed me senses. Looking down at the blonde haired kid, I found that he had curled up into a ball, tears falling down his cheeks like mad._

_Those tears were the last straw for me._

"_Can the four of you leave, please?" I asked, trying to stay civil for now._

"_What? No!" Erica protested. "Why should we?!"_

_Growling quietly, yet loud enough for them all to hear me, I allowed the red to seep into my eyes, my status as an Alpha overpowering them. Even though they weren't my Betas, they still ended up bearing their necks in a submissive gesture before turning tail and leaving to room._

_By the time I was sitting down again, Isaac had buried his head into his knees, sobbing freely now... I don't know what was going on, or why I felt this tug in my chest, or why my wolf and fox were crying out like they were...but I knew I needed to do something. Anything to get the hyperactive, innocent little kid back to normal. _

_So I did the only thing I could think of. The only thing I knew to do when someone was crying. _

_It was easier than I thought to just slide closer and pull the kid in for a hug. I think he stopped crying more out of surprise for me initiating such a thing, than anything else. But he didn't comment. He just shuffled a little closer, sniffling a little._

_We stayed like that until Isaac was calm and less teary. When he was, the kid sat up straighter with a sheepish and apologetic smile in place._

"_Don't let Jackson get to you, Pup." I told him, handing him the box of tissues from the mantel on the fire place. "He's just sour about only getting coal from Santa."_

_And it worked; I got a laugh out of the kid. I smiled a little, placing my hand on his shoulder._

"_Loads of people will tell you that Santa isn't real. They'll probably poke fun at the fact that you believe in him, while they don't, and they'll try to make you feel like the size of a pin." I told him, not really knowing why or how I was coming up with this crap. "But you believe in what you want, ok? Jackson doesn't know if Santa's real or not, he's never seen them. No one has."_

_Isaac looked up, smiling a little, nodding his head and sniffling again._

"_You believe in what you want, because it's true to you. Who gives a crap about what anyone else thinks?" I continued, pulling my friend – never thought I'd say that before – closer. "And don't let anyone tell you any different, Pup. Because, you know what, I believe in Santa too."_

"_Really?" Isaac asked, voice croaky from crying, not picking up on the lie I just told._

"_Really.__Now come on, you sound like a frog, you need some water. Besides, I think Danny might maim me if I keep you away from him any longer."_

_Isaac just laughed, softly saying thanks as we walked out of the living room and into the kitchen. _

_It was later that night, as I sat in my room drawing again, that there was a knock at my door. I had left it open, a small habit I had gotten into doing unless I wanted some alone time or I was asleep. Looking up, I found Derek standing just outside the doorway. He raised an eyebrow in question, to which I just smiled and set my sketch book down on my bedside table._

_Derek took that to mean come in, which it did, closing the door softly behind him. That was another strange thing I was still getting used to... I was used to doors slamming. But not in this house. _

_The younger Hale walked over, until he was standing at the foot of my bed, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. _

_For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at me. Not glaring, just...watching._

"_I saw what you did for Isaac." Derek finally said. "Thank you."_

_And, what now?_

"_Isaac's father never told him about Santa. Isaac learnt it from his teachers and the other kids at his school. So, because his father didn't know he knew...Isaac never got told if the guy in the red suit that appeared at Christmas was real or not." Derek explained. "When I first took Isaac in, made him part of my Pack, I found this out rather quickly. We all did. So, we decided to play along, for his benefit. We couldn't do that to him. Jackson... Well, Jackson is an ass. We don't know why he does things like this. But not many people would have done what you did. So... Thank you."_

_I nodded, slowly. Not really knowing what to say._

_Well, I didn't, until something that Isaac told me while we were in the kitchen came to mind._

"_Why haven't you ever, I dunno, pretended to be Santa?" I asked, curiously. "He thinks he's a bad kid and that's why he'd the only one that's never been visited by Santa, he told me himself. It would probably make him the happiest pup in the world if someone did that for him."_

_Derek stopped for a moment, looking as if that idea had never crossed his mind before. He smiled slightly, nodding a little, as he thought of something. But all Derek did was thank me again, said goodnight and left._

_**FLASHBACK – Sunday, December 22**__**nd**__** 2013**_

_Sometime after lunch, way after the embarrassing discussion of what I did as my fox self the previous night, Derek had dragged me – not literally – out to his car. I asked where we were going, but he just told me to '_get in_' and '_wait and see_'. I did so with a, slightly exaggerated, sigh._

_So, I waited._

_And waited._

_And waited._

_I waited for an hour and forty six minutes, until we were in Red Bluff. _

_Frowning slightly, I turned until I was facing away from the window and towards the Sourwolf in the seat next to me._

"_I was thinking about what you said Thursday night. About actually pretending 'Santa' came to the house." Derek told me as he pulled into a parking lot. "I thought you could give me a hand."_

"_Really?!" I grinned._

_Something I said had caused this._

_Something I said was going to make Isaac a very happy puppy..._

_This had to be the best day ever!_

_I could see Derek fighting a smile of his own, trying to keep it small. I was just about ready to burst, thinking of how happy this was going to make my friend._

_I pretty much jumped out of the Camaro, grabbing Derek's hand – once he had gotten out and locked the car – and ran towards the first store that looked remotely interesting. And if I didn't let go for a very long while, well...then that was my business._

_As we walked around the town, Derek and I found a lot of stuff to give to Isaac as 'Santa'. I felt guilty for not being able to chip in with the cost – it was my idea after all, initially – but Derek played the Alpha card. _

_As we walked, we talked. Not about anything in particular, just talking. I even found out a few things about Derek that he had been reluctant to share before. _

_Derek told me, briefly, about his girlfriend Paige and what happened with her. He told me, briefly, about Kate Argent and what happened there – especially with the fire. I refrained from asking any questions on those subjects... Derek told me he had two sisters, one older and one younger, both by a few years, so he got to know what it was like to be both the youngest and the oldest. He told me about the rest of his Pack – not that he named people, unless it was Peter – and everything they used to do together, everywhere they used to go. He told me about the books he liked, the music he listened to... Surprisingly, we both had similar tastes, in...well...everything. We had many things in common, though we disagreed with each other on a few points that the other would make... _

_I found out, whilst on this little shopping trip, that Derek Hale and I were actually pretty compatible. _

_Which did nothing to stop my attraction for him. _

**END OF FLASHBACK – Back to Wednesday, December 25****th**** 2013**

I glanced over at Derek; both of us smiling a little as we watched Isaac excitedly open everything in front of him. He nearly squealed at the sight of what '_Santa_' had brought him and what the rest of his Pack had got for him.

Jackson, the poor guy, just looked confused as hell.

It went on like that, one by one everyone opening what the others had given them. I was content in just sitting there and watching, smiling at their closeness.

I was not prepared to be handed four presents.

"Wh-What?" I stuttered out, looking at them all in shock as I stared at the four wrapped boxes in front of me.

"Did you really think we were going to leave you out?" Boyd asked, the left side of his mouth curled up into a sort-of-smile.

"Please be serious." Lydia sighed, grinning. "Now, open them."

It took me a few more moments to get over the shock of it all. These people who had known me for just over three months had actually gotten me Christmas gifts...

Gingerly, I reached for the second smallest box. The tag read it was from Isaac, Danny, Erica and Boyd. I glanced at the four of them, all of them nodding to encourage me to open it.

So I did. I unwrapped the wrapping paper, revealing a brown cardboard box. Inside the box was a black cell phone. My eyes widened slightly as I took in the sleek, black model, a little wary about the fact that a cell phone could, in fact, be tracked... But did I really need to worry about that with them?

I looked up, getting ready to thank them, when Erica held up her hand, stopping me before I could speak.

"Open them all, and _then _thank us." she told me, laughing a little.

Nodding, I reached for the next box. This one was longer and flatter; the tag reading it was from Jackson, Lydia, Scott and Allison. I repeated with this one what I did with the phone, this time, revealing a black laptop, case and all.

I could already feel the tightening of my throat and the stinging of my eyes.

Before I started to say anything, I looked at the remaining two packages, reaching for the smaller of the two, which just happened to be the smallest out of the four of them.

This one was square-ish and the tag said it was from, well, _everyone_. After unwrapping it, I found that it was a box that jewellery would come in. Tilting my head to the right a little, I put the box down in front of me, glancing at all of them. All of them – even Derek – were grinning at each other as they watched me... It was kind of unnerving.

So I turned my attention back to the box in front of me.

It was a ring.

The ring itself was gold, small black triskelion symbols surrounding it.

I stared at it for a long time before looking up at all of them

"Hey, it's just a ring, if you don't like it we can take it back." Boyd told me.

Smiling a little, I shook my head, looking back down at the gold and black object.

"I don't like it...I love it..." I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed at the admission.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?" Erica questioned.

I looked back up, giving her a tired and sad smile.

"I haven't celebrated Christmas in ten years... I forgot about _getting _gifts." I said, quietly. "I miss her, you know..."

Everyone kind of went quiet. As the silence stretched on, I picked up the gold band, sliding it onto my right ring finger.

Before the silence could go on any longer, the largest box was pushed in front of me by Peter. It was a big box. A really big box. And I mean big as in tall. Tall like Boyd, but not as tall as him. I looked at the tag, seeing that this one was from Peter and Derek.

I had to stand up to take most of the wrapping paper off and to open the box but, when I looked inside, I couldn't help 'eep'.

"You got me a guitar!" I beamed.

It was a natural coloured electro-acoustic guitar, with a capo and an amp and a strap and _everything _I would need for it. I was, essentially, freaking out right now, because this was a _fucking awesome guitar_!

"I would hug you all right now, but I have no idea where to start." I laughed.

I realised that, by saying that, I had opened myself up to the attack that followed. I was pretty much tackled to the ground, being squashed to death by nine werewolves and one human.

I never thought I would like that...

The warmth and the weight made me think that this could have been what it was like if I had any brothers or sisters, or if my mom never died. I made me think that this is what it could have been like if I was actually part of a Pack... It was a really nice feeling.

By the time I had wriggled out from underneath all of them, I was laughing like crazy.

"Thank you." I told them, once I had gotten my breath back. "I... It means a lot to me."

All of them just grinned at me, still touching me in some way... Of course, they were all kind of confused when I jumped up and started searching behind one of the units in the living room.

"Stiles... What are you...?" Derek started, only to be cut off by my triumphant yell.

I pulled out a few packages of my own, sorting them all out quickly before handing them all out easily.

"I only have, like, nine dollars to my name... But I still wanted to get you guys something." I explained as they all stared at the two things in their hands. "So, instead, I did this."

They all opened them at the same time, coming face to face with two pictures each, that I had drawn. All of them had a portrait of themselves along with something special...something that meant something to them.

Allison had a picture of her mom, because she said she didn't have a decent one.

Boyd had a picture of the ice skating rink. He had once shown me a picture of it when he let the whole Pack in without anyone known, so I had remade that picture for him on a larger scale.

Danny had a picture of his parents, since he never really saw them.

Erica had a picture of her two favourite guys – Boyd and Isaac.

Isaac had a picture of his mom, since he couldn't really remember her.

Jackson had a picture of his biological parents, since he never got to meet them – I was good with hacking too.

Lydia had a picture of her and Jackson. She showed me this one picture the previous month and was devastated when she couldn't find it again after that... So I recreated it from memory.

Peter had a picture of his Pack. His _old _Pack. I had found a picture that was fading and ripped from when I first went into his room, so I decided to redo it for him...

Scott had a picture of his mom, because even though he got to see her, it wasn't as much as he wanted and he missed her.

For Derek? Well, Derek got the picture I had been working on for a while now – the one on one of my large canvases. What I had been doing on it was drawing the house we were in now – the exterior of it – with the whole Pack standing outside it. I hadn't seen a picture with all of them together yet, so I thought I would make one for them all.

By the looks on their faces, they all loved their gifts.

"Stiles, could I make a request?" Derek asked, quietly, not looking away from the large canvas.

"Sure." I nodded.

"Add yourself to this and then give it back to me."

I was more than a little surprised as Derek handed me the canvas, my mind taking a moment to figure out what he had said.

"What? Why do you want me on there?" I questioned, frowning.

"Really, Stiles? You don't know?" Danny asked, laughing slightly.

"You belong with us." Allison told me.

"Which means you belong on here." Derek added, tapping the canvas. "So, can you add yourself in and then give it back to me?"

I nodded slowly, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

* * *

That night, lying in bed, I stared at: the ring on my finger, the guitar in the corner on its stand, the laptop on my desk and the phone on my bedside table.

The guitar was turned.

The laptop had internet access.

The phone had everyone's numbers programmed in to it.

They had done everything to make sure it was all ready and working for me... That just made everything all the more amazing.

I lay there, twisting the ring twice clockwise and twice anti-clockwise, going back and forth as I stared up at the ceiling, smiling to myself and replaying the events of the day.

This had been an _amazing _Christmas.

* * *

_**Please review XD**_

_**Thanks XD**_


	24. A Place To Finally Call Home

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD **

**Chapter 23**

**Stiles**

_I was walking through the trees, my Jeep having broken down the day before. I would have gotten a ride home, with someone from the Pack, but – strangely – they weren't at the university and neither Derek nor Peter showed up. _

_So I walked._

_It wasn't the end of the world; I enjoyed walking through the trees, feeling the wind._

_Except, there was no wind..._

_Though I found it weird, I just shrugged it off, just wanting to be back home with my friends. _

_But then everything grew dark. The sun left the sky, no moon or stars out, and I could barely see. I couldn't see where I was going, even with sight like mine, what with being half fox and half wolf. But it was as if someone had put a bag over my head, blocking everything out._

This wasn't right.

_I kept walking, even though I couldn't see where I was going. I mean, surely I would find my way back. I had walked around these woods so many times that I should be able to get back to the house._

_So I kept walking._

_And walking._

_And walking._

_But it was as if I was going nowhere. Like a dream where you try to reach the end of a hallway or something, but the distance only seems to become longer. Or, it was like I was walking around in a circle, even though I was going in a straight line, at the moment. _

Where even was I now?

_And then I heard a twig snap from behind me. I froze, instantly, the sound echoing around me. Because of that, I couldn't identify where the sound came from... So I took a guess. I turned to the right and ran._

_Ran as fast as I could. _

_But, like I said, it was as if I wasn't moving, the distance only got longer._

_Even so, I thought for sure that I must have gotten some distance between me and who/whatever had snapped that twig. Right?_

Wrong!

_Next thing I knew, I had been grabbed from behind, one arm wrapped around my waist and arms, while the other cut across my chest so the hand could cover my mouth. I was dragged backwards, kicking and screaming the whole way... _

_But they didn't let go until they wanted to._

_At the point where they let go of me, I was catapulted down to the sharp ground, the momentum from my struggling not keeping my balance. I flipped over, so I was facing the direction in which I had been let go, assuming the person who dragged me here was still there._

_I could only just make out the dark outline of a person kneeling over my outstretched legs._

"_Why do you keep fighting me, babe?" Zane and Gabriel's voices layered over each other to form one. "Hm? I know you want it. You can't hide it."_

_It was as if I was pinned to the ground and gagged. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk. I was screwed._

_The Zane/Gabriel hybrid put his weight onto my legs, shoving my shoulders back hard enough that I slammed into the ground. Slowly, they leaned over me, hands coming to rest either side of my head, just above my shoulders, face hovering just above mine._

_And, of course, I could feel their obvious enjoyment digging into my stomach._

_As one of their hands slipped under my shirt, starting to drag down my side and leg, their other hand got a tight grip in my hair, roughly tilting my head to the side and keeping it there. __Out of the corner of my eye, I saw their lean forward slowly, bit by bit dropping his head into the area between my neck and shoulder. He ran the tip of his nose up my skin, his tongue dragging along my flesh at times._

_He kept my head tilted backwards as his hand slowly started making its way back up my leg, curling inwards slightly. But then they just stopped. I thought that, maybe, this was all going to end. _

_But I was wrong._

_Instead, letting go of my hair, they flipped me until I was on my hands and knees._

_I seized up in panic._

_With one hand on my hip and the other on my chest, keeping me in place and dragging me back further. I still couldn't move, I still couldn't make a sound... All I could do was just...be there. And I knew exactly what was going to happen. _

_I felt them roll their hips into my ass, the moan he let out making me feel sick._

_I felt like crying and screaming and vomiting and just running away._

_I just wanted to be a kid again, with my mom and dad on the couch with me, watching a stupid cheesy movie._

_I just wanted to be away from this place, right here._

_He continued to move his hips, starting to pick up speed as his hand got steadily closer to my crotch._

_"Feels so good, Angel." he whispered in my ear, licking the shell of it. "Gunna get so much better real soon."_

_His hand moved towards the zipper on my jeans, thumb and forefinger gripping the metal, getting ready to pull it down. At the same time, I could feel warm puffs of air on my neck, feeling his head move even closer again._

_As I heard the metal teeth peel away from each other, they dark shadow behind me split in two. In that moment, Gabriel had appeared in front of me, grinning like a three year old going to Disney World. His blonde hair sticking up crazily. Gabriel grabbed both of my wrists, lifting my hands off of the floor, until I was sitting there on my knees. Shifting slightly so his left hand held both of my wrists, Gabriel shuffled forward until he was almost pressed right against me, and dragged his right hand from the base of my neck slowly moving down, down to where the hand belonging to the person behind me was. As his hand got closer, Gabriel tilted his head forward, his breath hitting the side of my neck that wasn't occupied by the guy behind me._

_I caught a glimpse of dark red hair from behind, which only meant that Zane was behind me. I could feel the crazed grin being pressed into one side of my neck as the metal teeth of my zipped was still being pulled away...until it was stopped by the denim._

"_Finally got you where I want you, baby." Zane muttered in my ear, his hand slowly..._

I woke up screaming.

Well, wouldn't you? If your mind was messed up enough to be able to make up that kind of shit? Because, let me tell you, it's _so not _pleasant!

Shaking and sweating, I stepped out of my bed, pulling on my sneakers and grabbing my red hoodie, heading down stairs. Running was the only way I could clear my head.

So, carefully and quietly, I slipped out of the door to my room and made my way down the hallway to the stairs.

Everything was going fine; no one had walked out of their rooms yet...

And there was a reason for that.

That reason?

None of them were in their rooms.

All of them were gathered in the living room, which, evidentially, was the room I had to pass to get to the front door. So, I just kind of ducked down, trying to sneak out... It was going really well, until...

"Stiles?" Peter's confused voice called out. "Why is your heart thrumming like a humming bird?"

And I just froze.

Sure, I trusted them all – not that I had openly admitted that, but I did – but did I really want them to know what happened? What my dysfunctional brain decided to come up with while I had been enjoying a peaceful sleep after a great Christmas?

No, I really didn't want to be that guy.

"Nightmare." I ended up saying, slowly. "_Extremely bad_ nightmare. Just need to run it off."

And, with that, I launched myself towards the door, flying out of it as fast as I could.

* * *

How could I not notice that it was half eight in the morning?

How could I not realise that a small bit of light was shining through the gap at the bottom of my blind?

For the love of God, these nightmares were making me go crazy!

I had only been running for a few minutes at a slight jog, the cold December wind slicing across my face. Feeling the freeing breeze was the only thing that let me know that _this _was real, that I wasn't dreaming anymore. That everything was alright.

That Zane wasn't here. That Gabriel wasn't here.

But there was still that fear.

So, yeah, I had only been running from a few minutes, and I wasn't even that far away from the house. That was probably why the whole Pack managed to catch up with me as quickly as they did.

I sighed, not bothering to ask them to leave me alone. It wouldn't work. Never did.

So we ran together.

Even Allison, somehow, managed to keep up for a while... But Scott ended up getting her on his back. What was funny was I wasn't even running at full speed. And being half fox and half wolf, I could run faster than _any _of them.

Speed. Agility. I had more than they had. But that was one of the perks that came with being a hybrid like me.

* * *

After a while, I could feel the Pack getting weaker.

It wasn't a scent they were giving off. I could _physically feel _them all getting weaker – tiered – from running so much. That and, also, Jackson wasn't so quiet when he complained. Seriously, if there was an Olympic event based around complaining, Jackson could _possibly _win it for America, if not then he would be in the top ten.

"Take a break." I sighed, stopping ahead of all of them. "You obviously need it."

Shaking my head – dare I say it – _fondly_, I turned around to face them all, just as they were collapsing onto the ground.

If you saw the nine mighty werewolves – and one hard-ass human – in this state...you wouldn't be able to help but laugh at them.

And I really did try. _I did!_

Ok, yeah, no. I really _didn't _try. But it was funny watching all of them lying on the floor, practically on top of one another, panting for breath, looking more like dogs than they ever had in my time knowing them.

"You guys seriously need to do more cardio!" I laughed – not giggled; you have no proof that I giggled.

Oh, if only more people could see Peter's bitch face! It rivalled that of Sam Winchester – if you don't know who that is then I am very ashamed of you! Thinking that only made me laugh harder, which, in the end, meant I had to use the tree closest to me to keep me standing.

But, come on, it was funny! Or was it a '_you-had-to-be-there-moment_'?

"Oh, stop with the face,_ Petra_." I grinned, using a female variation of the older wolf's name. "If the wind changes, it'll stick like that... Actually, forget what I said. It could be a _massive _improvement."

While keeping his glare on me, Peter turned slightly towards Derek.

"Can we get the boy a muzzle?" Peter asked, breathing heavily.

"Sorry, Creepy Peaty, I'm not into the kinky stuff." I smirked. "Besides, you're _way _too old for me, and _so not _my type."

"Just wait until I can move again."

"Dude, I was running at half speed. Good luck trying to catch me, old man."

Yeah, I liked these guys. I liked these guys _a lot_.

* * *

After twenty minutes, I got them all back on their feet, deciding they had enough of a break. Allison was on Scott's back again – which, fair enough – since she was only human.

Again, I was far ahead of them all, trying to get the dream out of my head as I ran. I mean, that _was _the whole point of this.

But the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got.

The more frustrated I got, the faster I ran.

The faster I ran, the more I thought about it.

It was a vicious cycle that I couldn't get out of. But the dream got me thinking.

Was it my subconscious telling me that, what I dreamt, I actually wanted to happen? Or was it my subconscious telling me that I was trying to put off the inevitable, that sooner or later Zane and/or Gabriel were going to do _something _like that and actually go through with it? Did it mean that I should just give up know, let it happen, and then just rid the world of me straight after?

Was that what the dream was trying to get at here?

Was _I _the reason they were both like that?

No, I couldn't be! I didn't even know Gabriel!

Or was that the point?

I could turn people I don't even know into a monster.

Was that what I did with Zane?

Or was the monster already there, chained up and hidden away, and I just brought it out of them.

Was this all my fault?

I didn't even realise that I had screamed and punched a nearby tree. Not until Derek's hand was gently placed onto my shoulder, hand on my wrist as I drew my arm back to hit the bark again.

Derek was breathing harder than before, meaning he had pushed himself past his limit to try and catch up with me.

And didn't that just make me feel like shit!

Sighing, I dropped my arm, slumping forward until my head was resting on the tree.

I stayed like that, with one of Derek's hands still on my shoulder and the other on my wrist, waiting for the rest of the Pack to catch up. Which only took five minutes.

But five minutes could do wonders when you were trying to calm yourself down.

It was only once they had sat down that I finally told them about my nightmare, only giving them a brief overview. I didn't exactly want to give the names of the people that stared in it, or what they had done exactly. So, I just gave a brief, yet informative, response.

But that didn't fool them.

"It was Zane, wasn't it?" Isaac whispered.

I couldn't help but flinch slightly at his name, looking around just to see if he was lurking around somewhere.

"And...Gabriel." I muttered, nodding.

I guess it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you that Erica and Lydia looked shocked and tried to defend him, saying '_Gabe isn't like that, Stiles, don't worry. He hasn't hurt a fly, and we've known him since high school._'

I didn't respond to that, knowing in my heart of hearts that Gabriel was bad news.

* * *

I'm pretty sure the Pack was thanking every God and Angel they could think of that we were now back at the house. Seriously, some of them didn't make it upstairs; they just collapsed into their usual places in the living room. I was one of the few that had enough energy to go upstairs and shower. But, then again, I would do. I mean, I wasn't even all that tired from the run. But I had been doing it _a lot _longer that eight of them, and I had a bit more speed than all of them.

Even after I showered I didn't leave my room. Instead I grabbed my new laptop. It was actually better that the one I had left behind in Dallas.

Newer software, better security/protection, faster connection...

It was just _better_.

Hell! Even my new _cell phone _was better!

It was great.

But the ring – which I still had on my right ring finger – and the guitar were, hands down, _the greatest _gifts I got the day before.

As soon as my laptop had loaded up, I just stared at the screen. I didn't know what to do first.

And then the one thing I had missed about having my old laptop came back to me, giving me the idea that I was now dead set on working on. And, you know, hacking was very useful...

* * *

I hadn't realised that I had been shut away in my room until a knock came to my door, the wooden thing opening before I could stand up to open it myself.

The whole Pack were standing there, looking a little bemused and, maybe, a little irritated. Some had their arms crossed, others with their hands on their hips and the rest just standing normally.

Derek seemed to be the only one standing fully _inside _my room though – it was still a _tiny _bit awkward with him ever since the kiss...

"I thought we were over this." Scott whined.

I tilted my head to the right, trying to see where his mind was at.

When I realised it.

They thought I was shutting myself away again. Like all the other times.

Yeah, I _really _should have noticed that...

"_No_! No, no, no!" I chuckled. "I was just downloading everything from my old laptop onto this one. Like, my music and documents and stuff. Well, the music that I have left on there anyway, the rest I'm downloading off of any site I can find."

"That you have left?" Allison questioned.

"Yeah... I lost a _ton _of stuff that I'm trying to get back. Luckily for me, my old laptop is still plugged into its charger and on, hidden somewhere no one can find it, so I can get everything from on there." I grinned, feeling a little proud of myself. "It's going to take days to get _every single song _back though."

"How much music do you have?" Danny asked.

I could feel the blush rising, no doubt about it. And by the smirks on Peter and Erica's faces, it was definitely there.

"Ok... So I'm a music junkie, so sue me." I muttered. "Say, want to hear some of the music _I _like?"

They were all genuinely surprised, noticing that I was willing to share something that was obviously very dear to me. So, they all walked in, taking a seat where they could find it, be it on the floor, at my desk or on my bed.

Derek and Isaac were the first two to actually sit down – both on my bed. And luckily Isaac sat next to me...but that meant that Derek was still quite close to me and I looked at him any time I looked up and straight ahead.

I played – Fall Out Boy: _I Don't Care, Sugar We're Going Down, Alpha Dog, Miss Missing You, Just One More Yesterday; _Halestorm: _Mz Hyde, I Miss the Misery, Don't Know How To Stop, American Boy, Tell Me Where It Hurts, Freak Like Me;_ Kansas: _Carry On My Wayward Son_; AC/DC: _Highway to Hell, Hells Bells, You Shook Me All Night Long, Back in Black, Thunderstruck; _Warrant: _Cherry Pie_; Queen: _Bohemian Rhapsody, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Fat Bottomed Girls, Another One Bites the Dust_.

And that was only to name a few.

I liked that I could share this with my new friends.

* * *

It was the next night – December 27th – that we were all sitting around having dinner – some left over Christmas food that we hadn't finished the day before either. I liked the routine we had gotten into, I must admit... It made me feel a part of something. Made me feel important..._wanted_, _needed_.

It was nice to feel like that for a change.

We were all just eating, having a good time; laughing and talking. And then Peter just came out with a random question.

"So, any plans for the future?" the older Hale asked, looking over at me from where he sat.

I think it was kind of a reflex to just go completely stiff, but it was new for me to actually put my fork down and not drop it.

"Well," I started, after clearing my throat, almost missing the glare Derek shot his uncle. "My plans went to shit."

Everyone turned to me then. Some looking hurt – Isaac – while others just looked confused – Scott.

"Why?" Derek asked, frowning, a faint glimmer of sadness swimming in his eyes.

It was a kind of glimmer that you could only see if you were close enough and knew what to look for... It was something I had seen _far _too many times.

"_Well_, I _was _going to keep low, make no friends, and get done with school so I could get a job and an affordable apartment, so I wasn't living out of my car. You know, be alone." I told them, looking around the table at them all. "Then, one day, I just happened to stop to help this tall blonde kid, which completely fucked up my whole plan. Because, _now_, I'm noticed even more that before. I have friends. I have a place to live for as long as said friends want me around... I'm no longer alone."

I smiled, an actual _genuine _smile. A smile that was last seen when my mom was still around. All of them seemed to be at a lost as to what to say. But that was fine.

I wasn't done yet.

"You see, because of nine werewolves and one bad-ass human hunter, my plans have been torn to shreds and chucked into the wind." I continued, shrugging slightly. "I have the chance to, maybe, change everything. I mean, you've already helped change me for the better. Some people are changing their opinions on me, well, slightly and only a few. You all saw what happened at the store the other day... You guys have all changed my plans... Changed my mind..."

And, really, where did I come up with all this mushy stuff?! I mean, geez!

But it was worth it, seeing their reactions and feeling their happiness.

* * *

From December 27th onwards, I had been adding to the picture I had made for Derek – the one of the whole Pack.

I had done as asked and added myself into the exact place he wanted me to be – I had asked – which was the space on his right hand side.

At first I had been a little reluctant, but soon conceded. It _was _his gift after all.

So, today, on December 30th, the picture was finally finished.

As soon as it was dry and I had made sure it was all perfect, I propped the canvas up against my wardrobe, before sitting on the edge of my bed and just looking at it. I looked at the picture, looking at how the colours blended together, the vibrant colours of the clothes worn by the people in the picture contrasting perfectly with dark and light colours used for the background.

I had even added a little hand written plaque type thing now, saying who was who, going from left to right, putting down the date it had been completely finished. To be honest, I thought it would be a nice little touch.

And so did Derek, considering he said as much when he walked in and saw that it was done.

"It's brilliant." Derek said, a small smile gracing his face.

"No, it's not." I replied, blushing and fidgeting slightly. "It's just a bunch of lines and colours."

"And it's perfect. Thank you."

I looked up just in time to see Derek taking a seat next to me on the side of my bed.

"No one had ever given me something like this before, and already it's my favourite gift." Derek continued. "And I know exactly where to put it. So, thank you."

Before I knew it, Derek had dragged me into a one armed hug... It felt nice. _More_ than nice. It felt...

It felt _right_!

Only then did I think back to the Mates thing. Was there a chance that maybe...maybe we could be?

But Derek was gone before I could think about it anymore, the canvas being taken with him.

I guess it's obvious to say that I was _extremely _surprised to find said canvas hanging, in the living room, above the fire place. The first thing you would see if you looked straight ahead as you walked into the room.

It was nice to have a place to finally call _home_.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thank you everyone, so much XD**_


	25. Happy New Year

**Authors Note: ****HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: **Zane,Gabriel (Gabe).

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD**

**Please, please review XD **

**Chapter 24**

**Stiles**

December 31st, New Years Eve.

Soon it would be the start of a new year.

Goodbye 2013, hello 2014!

Who knew, maybe I could have better luck this year. It was certainly going to start off better, considering the ten people I had with me. I already knew that they were the reasons why I was a little excited for tonight.

I had never really seen fireworks before, the last time being when I was five or six. But tonight? Tonight we were going up onto the roof, to watch the fireworks that are let off somewhere in the town.

But for now?

For now, I was too excited to sit still for long. But I have no idea how that led me to baking! And I'm not kidding. I was actually baking...while listening to the music I had downloaded – it ended up _not _taking days as I thought, just _hours_. Don't get me wrong, I love to bake. It's one of the very few things that I took pleasure in doing. It was something I hadn't done for years...

So, with that in mind, I decided that – now I was baking – I could make things for tonight.

Tonight, when we were all out on the roof, watching the fireworks. Bringing in the New Year.

I mean, I was making enough as it was, already. Seriously! I had trays upon trays of cookies, a handful of cakes, dozens of cupcakes, hundreds of flapjacks... I didn't realize just how much I had made until I looked around in this moment.

I couldn't actually think of a time when I had actually made so much!

And I was still going. I had moved on to making pie now. Apple pie, cherry pie, blackberry pie, blueberry pie, chocolate pecan pie, triple-chocolate pumpkin pie, key-lime pie, mud pie, buttermilk pie, banana cream pie, honey pie, lemon coconut buttermilk pie, chocolate pie, banoffee pie, boysenberry pie, bumbleberry pie, derby pie, raspberry pie, rhubarb pie and strawberry pie. _Man, Dean Winchester would be happy..._

And treacle tart.

I even made cheesecake _and _I made vanilla ice-cream to go with the root-beer floats I would set up later!

Was that too much? Yes.

Did I care? No.

I mean, hey, werewolves ate a shit tone of food. And since there was _nine _werewolves, plus me – I was starting to eat a little more – I needed to make _a lot_. Especially if Allison wanted to eat something.

But then I froze as a certain song came on. I looked over at my laptop, making sure that I wasn't imagining it, grinning madly as I saw it say: _Play It Again, Luke Bryan_.

How could I not sing this song?

"_She was sittin' all alone over on the tailgate  
Tan legs swingin' by a Georgia plate  
I was lookin' for her boyfriend  
Thinkin', no way she ain't got one  
Soon as I sat down I was fallin' in love  
Tryin' to pour a little sugar in her Dixie cup  
Talkin' over the speakers in the back of that truck  
She jumped up and cut me off_  
_She was like, oh my God, this is my song  
I've been listenin' to the radio all night long  
Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is  
She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance  
'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand  
Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out  
And she gave me a kiss  
And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again  
And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again_"

As I sang, I danced around the kitchen, still mixing and baking, keeping an eye on everything I was doing.

"_I'd gave that DJ my last dime  
If he would have played it just one more time  
But a little while later  
We were sittin' in the drive in my truck  
Before I walked her to the door  
I was scannin' like a fool AM, FM, XM too  
But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove  
Man, you should have seen her light up_"

I think everyone would be surprised if I liked country. I mean, to them, I didn't look like someone who would enjoy it.

"_She was like, oh my God, this is my song  
We've been listenin' to the radio all night long  
I can't believe that it came back on, but here it is  
She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance  
'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand  
Spinnin' in the headlights she gave me a goodnight kiss  
And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again  
And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again_"

But I did. It was strange, but I did like it. I guess if the song was good and the person could sing, then I liked it.

"_The next Friday night we were sittin' out under the stars  
You should have seen her smile when I broke out my guitar  
She was like, oh my God, this is my song  
I've been listenin' to the radio all night long  
Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is  
She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance  
'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand  
Spinnin' in the headlights she gave me a goodnight kiss  
And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again  
And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again  
Yeah, play it again, play it again, play it again  
Somebody, play it again, play it again, play it again_"

I was grinning from start to finish. Even after that song finished. And I couldn't help but smile as the next song came on and I kept making the pies.

I mean, _Def Leppard _singing _Pour Some Sugar On Me_... I couldn't ask for a better song to come on next!

So I _had _to sing that _too_.

"_Step inside, walk this way  
You and me babe, Hey, hey!  
Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on  
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone  
Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp  
Demolition woman, can I be your man?  
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light  
Television lover, baby, go all night  
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet  
Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah_"

This was the kind of song that _everyone _thought I listened to. Sexual, rock and roll.

"_Hey!  
C'mon, take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up  
Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon, fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough  
I'm hot, sticky sweet  
From my head to my feet, yeah_"

Some people didn't realize that there was more to me than all of that.

"_Listen! Red light, yellow light, green-a-light go!  
Crazy little woman in a one man show  
Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love  
Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up  
You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little  
Tease a little more  
Easy operator come a knockin' on my door  
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet  
Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah  
Give a little more_"

But that didn't stop me from swinging my hips as I moved around the kitchen, singing as loud as I could, grinning like a mad man.

"_Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up  
Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough  
I'm hot, sticky sweet  
From my head to my feet yeah_"

I loved the guitar solo in this song! It was awesome and no one could tell me differently! Hell, I _learnt _the guitar solo the day I heard this song!

"_You got the peaches, I got the cream  
Sweet to taste, saccharine  
'cause I'm hot, say what, sticky sweet  
From my head, my head, to my feet  
Do you take sugar? One lump or two?  
Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up  
Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough  
Pour some sugar on me  
Oh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
Get it, come get it  
Pour your sugar on me  
Ooh  
Pour some sugar on me  
Yeah! Sugar me!_"

It was a great song.

And only after it finished did I hear the two heartbeats behind me.

Slowly, I turned around, finding Derek and peter both standing by the door.

"Why is it always you two?" I groaned, chucking the wash cloth over my shoulder, before turning back to the filling for my next pie.

"You bake? How do you know how to bake? What is happening?" Peter asked, quietly.

"Mom and her friend Talia taught me when I was a kid."

The pair of them went quiet at that, the same sad look overtaking their faces just like every other time I mentioned or drew Talia.

But as soon as it was there, it was gone. As if it never happened.

"That doesn't explain _why _you've turned into Nigella Lawson." Peter quipped.

Rolling my eyes, I glanced over my shoulder. And if I bitch-faced the older Hale, well, that's my problem.

"I got excited about tonight." I muttered, turning back to the pies and things. "So, I ended up baking. Then I thought: '_hey, we have food for when we're on the roof_'."

The only reply was a soft, high yelp.

I didn't question it, I didn't turn around... I just smirked knowing Derek was on my side.

* * *

_The roof...the roof was flat, the edge before the concrete ledge surrounded by a metal fence of sorts. A small bump could be seen on top, probably a door that you walked through to get onto the roof. It must be nice to go up onto that roof, to lie down and look up at the stars. The view must have been great too, standing by the fence and look out on everything._

We were up on the roof just after nine that evening. Everyone had helped take the food up – I had baked a lot, so it took us a fair few trips. But everyone seemed happy with all the shit I had made, and they all seemed to like it.

At least, that's what they said anyway.

Well, they said more than that...and there were a few appreciative moans, but you know what I mean.

The first time I saw the house, I remember thinking how nice it must be to come up onto the roof and be able to just look around; stare up at the stars. Man, I couldn't have been more right!

The view was amazing. High enough to see through the trees, but low enough that you couldn't be seen from the road. I'll admit that I spent the first few minutes of being up there – after we brought the food up – just moving around the roof, leaning against the metal fence and taking in the view from all angles.

It was kind of beautiful. Especially since it was suck a clear night, making it so we could see the stars and moon.

Looking up at the stars reminded me of when I was a little kid, back before any of this shit started – before my mom died, before my dad turned into an abusive alcoholic, before Zane. Back when I was carefree and way happier.

When I was, about, four, my mom used to take me out onto our roof – the safe, flat bit, of course – to look at the stars, while dad was at work. She would point out the constellations, always asking me what my favourite was. My answer never changed, it was always _Canis Majoris_. When she would ask me my favourite star, I would say _Sirius_, the Dog Star. I had always been fond of dogs, so it made sense that the Dog Star was my favourite. It also helped that dogs seemed to be fond of my too. Which was strange because, _hello_, half werewolf half fox.

"_Hey, Stiles! Can we cut this pie?!" _Jackson shouted over.

I don't know why he insisted on shouting when he knew I could hear him perfectly well. Rolling my eyes, I told him that it was fine, albeit I kept my voice at its usual level.

It was nice out here, and I didn't want to ruin it by yelling.

* * *

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came and fireworks had been set off, lighting up the sky in so many colours.

It would have been better if I didn't flinch every time one was set off.

I thought I was doing well at hiding it from all of them, you know. But it seemed like I was wrong, since every time I flinched they would all apologise. Isaac didn't apologise as much though, only ever doing it every once in a while. He was too engrossed in the fireworks; eyes glazed over and mind somewhere far away.

But then, a few minutes after my last flinch, Isaac turned to me.

"Sorry." he whispered, looking guilty.

That was the last thing I remembered.

_**FLASHBACK: Wednesday, January 2**__**nd**__** 2008 – Stiles' POV**_

_I stood there and watched as a twelve – almost thirteen – year old Isaac cowered in the corner, while Mr Lahey stood there with a gun. The rifle was hanging loosely at his side, thankfully, but I couldn't help but panic at the thought of him turning the weaponry on the kid._

"_You," he slurred, drunkenly. "_You_ made my wife _leave_."_

_The man swayed, trying to stumble closer. The first step he took reminded me of a newborn animal trying to walk, making him have to find a grip on a nearby table to keep himself standing._

"_It would be so..._easy_ to hide your body." Mr Lahey continued, glaring at the whimpering boy, waving the gun around dangerously. "So easy to just get rid of you."_

_The older man chuckled darkly, stumbling a little closer to the poor kid. He crouched down slowly, keeping one hand gripped to the table top to keep his balance. Leaning forward, staring at his son, he glared as the younger version of Isaac tried to push himself into the wall even further, muttering apologises the whole time. _

"_It's all your fault!" he spat, throwing his gun in the air._

_Isaac screamed as the gun went off, while I flinched, taking a step back._

_Before I could even blink, Mr Lahey had stretched over, gripping the back of Isaac's neck in a painful grip, dirty nails digging into the flesh. _

"_Look what you made me do!" Mr Lahey roared, throwing his gun onto the table before dragging Isaac over to the other side of the room. _

_Before I knew it, Isaac was locked in the freezer, Mr Lahey ignoring his begging and pleas and cries, just walking up the stairs with a blank expression._

_Once the guy was gone, I slowly made my way over to the freezer. Maybe, just this once, I could change the memory. I could change it and help him._

_But as soon as I opened the lid, Isaac's cold lifeless body was just lying there. Blue and decaying, eyes blood shoot. Even so, his head snapped up to look at me._

"_Why didn't you save me?" he whispered, blood rolling down his face from his eyes instead of tears. "Why didn't you stop him? Don't you wanna help me, Stiles?"_

_**END OF FLASHBACK: **_**Back to Wednesday, January 1****st**** 2014**

I don't know what I was saying, all I know is that I was yelling and trying to distance myself from the image as much as I could. I only stopped moving when my back hit cold metal, my head in my hands.

"Stiles?" a small, soft voice came...the same voice that was talking to me before.

My head snapped up, coming face to face with Isaac.

I didn't think about what I did next, I just dragged the young werewolf forward, hugging him tightly. It took a few seconds for him to get over the shock and actually hug me back...

It was the first hug I had initiated and gone into willingly ever since my mom died.

It was nice.

"Are you ok?"I asked, starting to calm down, my eyes shut tight.

"Me?! Are _you_ ok?" Isaac countered. "You're the one that freaked out."

"Speaking of, can you take the black out of your eyes?" Erica asked quietly. "It's a little creepy..."

I froze at that.

Why had my eyes turned black this time? I wasn't taking away anyone else's pain and panic. And it didn't work with mine.

In an instant, I was up and running through the door on the roof, jumping down the stairs, and flying into the bathroom on the floor of the house that my room was on. I realised I was shaking as I came to a stop in front of the mirror, noticing that my eyes, were in fact, black.

_Why are they doing this?!_

I tried to get them to go back to normal, but nothing I tried seemed to work, and the fact that I was panicking about it only seemed to make it worse!

I didn't know what to do to make it better.

I never had anyone around to tell me how to control it properly.

I never had anyone around to tell me why it would happen when I _wasn't _taking away pain and panic.

"_STILES!" _a panicked voice called.

Immediately, right after hearing that voice, my eyes turned back to normal.

_Derek's voice_, my mind helpfully supplied.

Well..._that _was new...

Calming myself down enough that I was breathing properly, I left the bathroom, coming face to face with Derek and Isaac, the rest of the Pack slowly coming up behind them. I didn't need my super senses to know that they were worried. It was written all over their faces that they were concerned.

"I'm fine." I told them, walking up to Isaac.

I stared at the blonde intently, waiting to see if the blood would start to drip from his eyes, or if he would turn blue...

But he didn't.

He stayed the same. And that was enough for me.

For now.

So, with a satisfied nod, I left them standing there, heading towards the stairs.

As I made my way down to the living room, I noticed that I was still rather shaky. To prevent myself from falling, I gripping the banister tight – well, as tight as I could, without it breaking or threatening to break.

But I made it into the room without injury, turning on the light as just before I walked in. The first thing I was greeted with was the picture I had drawn for Derek, hanging above the fireplace, the second being the Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room – furthest away from the fireplace.

I sat down on one end of the couch, staring at the tree, watching the lights change colour and blink every so often. But, even though I was drawn in by the colours, it didn't stop me from hearing the soft footfalls and heartbeats of the Pack, as they stood in the doorway of the living room, most likely checking that I was _actually _alright before they went off to bed.

I, on the other hand, picked up the book I had been reading a few days ago, off of the coffee table and began to read.

There was no way in hell I was going to sleep tonight!

* * *

**Derek**

Waking up at eleven that January 1st morning, I couldn't help but remember what happened only hours before.

Everyone pretty much woke up at the same time – well, everyone but Stiles – but Stiles didn't seem to be awake. Or in his room. I knew he was still in the house, since I could hear ten heartbeats...but Stiles' wasn't coming from his room or from the kitchen.

As I made my way downstairs, I was joined by the rest of my Pack, as usual. First Peter, before gathering Danny and Isaac, Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia, and finally Boyd and Erica.

The first thing we all saw once reaching the ground floor of our house?

Stiles curled up into a small ball, taking up a small portion of the couch.

It was a silent agreement that nobody was to wake him up, but also that we weren't going to leave him alone. We all knew about his nightmares, we all knew what it was like to suffer with them. Sure, Stiles' seemed to be worse, but that didn't change that we all knew what it was like to have to deal with them.

While Peter and I decided that, this time, we would take the spare seats on the couch by Stiles, everyone else quietly found a place to sit. No one said anything; no one made any sudden movements that would cause a loud noise... Everyone stayed quiet and calm, letting the newest member of our quirky group rest for once, with all of us around.

We hadn't been sitting there for two minutes when Stiles stirred a little.

Instead of waking up as we all thought he would, Stiles seemed to move closer to Peter – who was sitting right by his head – pushing his head against my uncle's leg. The boy visibly relaxed as he continued to nuzzle and push his head into Peter's leg, the gesture being one that the pair of us was all too familiar with.

There was only one person we knew that _ever _did that...

My stomach churned as I watched Stiles continue to push against Peter's leg every now and then. My wolf growled inside my mind as I watched as Peter let his hand drop to pat the kids head every so often.

And I only had a faint idea as to why... But only because of what my dad used to say and from what Peter had told me – told all of us – since becoming the Uncle I once knew and loved. Peter had explained the concept of Mates to all of us, filling in the gaps of our knowledge, since my parents were never around to teach me, and Laura didn't know how to explain it to her closed off brother.

But it couldn't be... Could it?

"Derek's getting jealous." Erica giggled, singing the words instead of saying them.

She backed down as soon as the red flashed into my eyes.

"Nephew, there's no need for that. It's perfectly normal." Peter said, quietly, already knowing where my thoughts were.

Slowly, Peter looked up from the kid next to him, first meeting my gaze before looking at the eight teenagers.

"Years ago, long before the fire, a good friend of my sister's, Derek's mother, would come to visit, bringing her son along." Peter explained, being careful to avoid using Stiles and his mother's names. "The boy would most often than not fall asleep during the visits, being as young as he was. He always did what you see Stiles doing at this moment, when someone was sitting close to him."

The rest of my Pack nodded slowly, all paying attention as Peter went on to say more of the boy that only the two of us knew was Stiles, telling them how he was my first friend outside of our old Pack, before I met school friends.

But, during this all, I just kept my gaze locked on the sleeping nineteen year old, but seeing that three year old kid who would always fall asleep sitting next to me...

* * *

**Stiles**

Nothing interesting happened when I woke up on the 1st or on the 2nd on January. They were both pretty boring days in the house.

But, on January 3rd, I had come back downstairs after hanging out in my room for a bit, sometime after dinner, shaking slightly.

I walked down the stairs to find the whole pack gathered in the living room. I shrugged it off, since it was normal to find them all like that, going into the kitchen to grab a beer. Though I was shaking the whole time.

I didn't make too much of a fuss about that. Just grabbed a beer, opened it, took a swig, and walked back into the living room. Only to find everyone looking at me as I walked in.

I sat in my usual spot – leaning against the couch that was closest to Derek's armchair, looking around at all of them and taking another gulp of beer.

"What?" I asked, voice going the tiniest bit higher.

"You're shaking." Peter replied, looking up from his book and cocking an eyebrow.

"I'll be fine. Just a little cold...don't know why though... I'll stop soon."

But I didn't.

I kept shaking.

And shaking.

And shaking.

And everyone was just watching me, waiting for me to do _something _about it.

So, in the end, I stood up with a sigh, walked over to Derek, and squeezed myself into the little gap between him and the right side of his armchair. The shaking stopped almost immediately, but that didn't stop me from pushing into him more, revelling in his warmth.

Of course, it earned me a strange look from Derek, including eyebrows.

"You're warm." I tell him. "They won't stop staring until I do something, and I'm too lazy to go all the way upstairs again."

To further prove my point, I wriggled further into the space, until Derek complied and shifted until we could both fit.

"Did I mention you're warm?" I asked, slowly closing my eyes.

I didn't even notice that I was falling asleep.

* * *

_**Please, please review XD**_

_**Thanks everyone XD**_


End file.
